


For Sentimental Reasons - Part I

by Persephone



Series: Willing to Take the Risk [10]
Category: Valentine's Day (2010)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bradley Cooper - Freeform, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Comedy, Eric Dane - Freeform, Family, Iowa, M/M, Rare Characters, Rare Fandoms, Rare Pairings, Redemption, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephone/pseuds/Persephone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After reconciliation, redemption.</p>
<p>
  <span class="small">
    <i>Edited Nov. 5, 2013</i>
  </span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The night had dumped a foot of snow on Johnston. Standing on the roof of the old abandoned movie theater, he looked on the town where he had been born. 

The place where he had fought his best battles and had had his life-changing moments. 

In its streets held the moment he had realized he wasn’t like all the other boys, that he didn’t look at girls and feel the same way. It was also the place in which he had watched his sister fight her own battles, where he had overheard his parents question what they had done wrong to find themselves raising a lesbian daughter.

But it was also the place where he had come to know that he wasn’t alone, that even though his best friend with whom he was so close they sometimes confused experiences and memories didn’t look the same way at boys, there were other boys who did. And that there was plenty of love to find.

Allison had been right in that he had never given his heart, at least not in the same way he had given it to Holden. But he had found enough affection and release, enough communal love, to not carry with him any misery and repression. And for that he was grateful to his town.

The theater was also the infamous site where he and Davey had spent their childhood summers tormenting the old proprietor who’d owned it, hiding celluloid and switching matinee playlists whenever they could sneak into the projectionist booth, until the winter they had turned twelve, old enough to know right from wrong.

That summer their parents had made them work for free for the old man, keeping his grounds free of litter and mowing the lawns around the building whenever needed. They had sweated and moaned all summer, but the proprietor had insisted that they acquire some much needed culture while at it, and they had been introduced to Humphrey Bogart and film noir, and the riveting allure of Golden Age sirens. And it had proved one of the best summers of their lives.

And so on the rooftop was where Davey met him.

His hands fisted deep in his winter vest pockets, he listened Davey approach across the rooftop from the exit door, snow crunching as he moved in his usual, easy strides. 

“You look in one piece,” Davey remarked. He came to a stop beside him, leaning on the concrete wall going around the roof. He jokingly nodded at his throat. “Anne’s blades didn’t leave any scars, I see.”

He shook his head.

“A mother’s love,” he mused after some time. “It comes in the most unexpected of ways.”

“They looove the ass-handing part.”

“No kidding.”

“Babs and Lew are in town, by the way,” Davey said. “Speaking of unexpected parental ways.”

“Yeah?” he said a little too eagerly, looking at Davey. “When’d they get in?”

“Right after you and Holden disappeared into his hotel room for thirty-six straight hours. Or should I say, gay hours. You can’t imagine my surprise when I saw the bat signal.”

He snorted. “I wasn’t sure it still worked.”

He paused for a time, staring out at the lights around town. Johnston was quiet on a Thursday night, snow-covered as it was. The lights in the business district mostly off, but the neighborhoods and the schools were still lit. 

Focused on those small thoughts, he realized he still wasn’t sure where to begin. So instead he asked, “And how are they doing?”

“You’ll get your chance to ask them,” Davey replied, knowing he hadn’t brought him up at two a.m. to talk about his parents.

Davey slanted him a look. “Feeling like a real dick right about now?”

He lowered his head. And stayed silent. He might feel like a dick forever.

For two days he had been making it up to Holden. He had been trying to. Even when Holden had eventually passed out, he had still watched him sleep. Grateful, forever grateful, that he had fallen in love with a man who could show him such patience and love. He had tried to say the words to Holden, to tell him how he felt that he had stayed with him, but Holden had told him he deserved that and more.

And he had talked. While a yellow winter sun had blaze across the room, he had finally been able to talk about the men he had seen him with throughout the years. The ones who had made him hurt for so long. He talked about the phone calls he had been forbidden to make during the season because of their arrangement, when he had so badly needed to tell him how much he missed him and wanted him. He talked of the depth of rejection he had felt. 

He also explained how it felt to see with his own eyes that even giving all his love hadn’t nearly been enough. Not to make him stay, nor to keep those men away. And at last he admitted that wanting him had distracted him, until it had finally made him doubt everything, including himself on the field. 

All the things he couldn’t say over the years or even as he had intended in Dr. Markham’s office. He held none of it back. He had had no more use for any of it.

And silent on top of him, Holden had caressed him with his toes against his ankles, while he talked. He had left L.A. because he hadn’t been able to tolerate the feelings those memories created inside him. But lying there beneath Holden with nothing but the warmth of their bodies and the hum of sexual attraction between them, they had rendered powerless those emotions.

Holden had asked him whether he had something he wanted to say to him. And as Holden had stared down at him, he had held Holden’s eyes. They had stared at each other for a long time. And when they had seen that they could find no words to come to a better understanding of what their love was, Holden had simply told him that he would take care him.

“Do you believe me?” Holden had asked, his eyes burning into him, and he had nodded yes. And he had closed his eyes as Holden had kissed across his temple and brow. And it had felt like a healing.

But there were things he hadn’t been able to say to Holden, because he hadn’t understood them himself. Why he had done the things he had, what it meant for their future. 

Whether he had done something terribly wrong. 

Things he needed someone who knew him better than he knew himself to explain to him. 

“Wanna know what I think of him?”

“No, not really.”

“I think he’s a saint. All the more so if he used to be this great sinner in the past.”

The words floated in the air. 

“So what does that make me?” he finally asked.

“Just about ready for marriage.”

He went silent. Then, resolutely, “I’m not proud of the way I behaved, Jones.”

“You mean ungratefully?”

He glanced at Davey. “You think I did this on purpose?”

“Definitely.”

He kept staring at Davey. But Davey wasn’t looking at him, just at the snow around their feet.

“You brought me here to talk,” Davey said placidly. 

_Yeah, but still…_

He looked away, struggling for the right words.

“What just happened?” he whispered. He felt like a man who had just recovered from the worst migraine possible, only to look around and find that the room had been trashed. 

“How did I do this to him? I kept him out of work, from his life…”

“You guilted the shit out of him, and now you’re feeling bad because you enjoyed every minute of it.”

He couldn’t look at Davey. But he wasn’t able to play coy where Davey was concerned. He wouldn’t even bother trying.

“Jesus,” he said softly. “Jones, I made some bad decisions.”

Davey shrugged. “It happens.”

“But I’m supposed to be the levelheaded one. You know? I’m not supposed to be the one to act out, like he was never allowed to hurt my feelings. I don’t think I’m that special. But…look at what the fuck I did.”

“You didn’t hear anything I said about marriage just now, did you?”

“No, I heard ya, but…” He sighed.

“It’s called humble pie, Jay. That special thing that only that special someone could ever feed you.”

God, how true. How often had he heard the nature of love talked about in sentimental terms. Someone had stolen your heart, usually accompanied by a warm fuzzy plea that they take good care of it. Love for sentimental reasons. It was a deeply comforting notion.

But love was full of cold, hard reality, humbling to a fault. Filled with demeaning lessons to impart and sentimentality was just the sweet coating layered over the pill to make it go down easier. The notion he was beginning to respect was the one of being able to take your medicine.

It wouldn’t happen again though. He promised himself that. He’d gotten an anger out of him that had devastated his mental state, therefore nothing more where Holden was concerned would make him act out like this again.

“Ah,” Davey said softly. “I know that look. You’re thinking you have this under control, that it’ll never happen again. But you’re wrong, Jay. It isn’t even close to the last time you’ll do this to him.”

“Bullshit.”

“Guaranteed. It’s like amnesia. He’ll say, Sean, you’re doing it again. And you’ll yell, _What?! What the fuck are you talking about!_ I have _never_ been this angry with you!”

Despite his shitty feelings, he found himself laughing. Because he suspected that might actually be true too. How many times had he gotten upset at Holden for not living up to his expectations, when he had specifically assured him he would be his safety? 

Hadn’t he promised he would take care of him, only to lose his patience at the first sign of trouble at Cecelia’s cocktail party. And what about abandoning him when Holden had been facing emotional firing squads, all because he had decided to chose a saner personal life than the one he had been raised to believe in. And finally, rewarding Holden’s patience in waiting him through the season with his near impotence at The Beverly Hills, and saying those bitchy things to him at that their last dinner with Alastair. 

And at each turn he had been sure he had a handle on things.

He took a deep breath. He really hadn’t been paying attention when marriage had made Davey the smarter one.

But this time was different. No matter what surprises lay ahead of them, no matter how much Holden’s behavior pushed his buttons, no matter how…impotent he got to feeling in their relationship, he trusted Holden. And he would never push him away again. Or leave shameful, embarrassing bruises on his skin.

He looked over to see Davey watching him closely.

“He giving you hell in there?”

“No, just the opposite.”

“Well, count yourself lucky, my friend, and hope he stays that way.”

He nodded, lowering his eyes to the snowy ground.

“So we’re not gonna carry this forward, right?”

“Are ya gonna let me?” he asked, giving Davey a sidelong glance.

“Nope. I owe Prince Charming that much.”

He snorted under his breath.

And then there was a long silence, during which Davey didn’t make any moves to leave. Eventually, he looked at Davey.

Davey’s gaze was steady on the ground, his elbows resting on the wall. His mild expression hadn’t changed, though he noticed that there were new strands of grey in the black hair at his temple that hadn’t been there the last time he was in town. And that he was overdue for a haircut.

But something was eating at Davey.

“Honestly, Jay,” Davey finally said as if in afterthought. “You don’t have anything to worry about, because that man is crazy about you. I mean, I thought _I_ was crazy about you, but he’s got me beat by a mile.”

He laughed a little, unable to help himself. “You just said that to me, you dope?”

“Yeah, I just said that to you,” Davey replied, giving him a somewhat irritated look.

The look took him by surprise, leaving him stumped for a response. 

He waited, hesitantly, wondering what was worrying Davey’s usually genial mind.

“You know what the best part of all of this is?” Davey said quietly, with a seriousness in his voice that kicked his heart into high gear. “The best part of all this is how right it feels. Our whole lives, we never talked about girls like this. Like how we’ve talked about Holden.” Davey paused, still staring at the ground. “I mean, you’d talk about them, but it was this—distance and respect, you know? Which was just odd for a teenager. I honestly thought you were— I don’t know, so into football that you just weren’t that into sex.” 

Davey massaged his forehead, then breathed, running his hand through his hair.

He himself wasn’t breathing. He couldn’t, knowing where Davey’s thoughts were leading.

“It was impossible to picture you ending up with a woman. It just was. And I know I said that about you with a guy, but Jay, I was wrong. Seeing you with Holden, even with you spending this whole week being upset at him, it’s like seeing you as a _whole person_ for the first time. Not as that awesome, great looking guy who should’ve been getting laid like the world was coming to an end but inexplicably wasn’t, but rather, finally, as the Jay I know. You’re the man of steel on the football field and standing next to me, but when it came to this other thing… it just wasn’t there.” Davey looked at him, his eyes still. “And now it is.”

But instead of the idea presumably making Davey glad, it seemed to be upsetting him.

Davey rubbed his fingers to his temple, and his chest tightened. He knew what was coming.

“You should have told me, Jay.”

And still he hesitated, an involuntary response to a moment he somehow never thought he would be confronting with Davey.

This was too real.

Tightening the fists he had buried in his pockets, he stared guardedly at his friend.

“Told you about what?” he asked.

“You fucking know what.”

His heart thudding in his chest, he still stalled.

“Are ya gonna get sentimental on me now, Jones?”

“Yes, motherfucker.”

That shut him up.

Davey slowly shook his head, a look on his face he remembered from childhood, when they found themselves faced with something adult and confusing. 

Past jokes, past mental reorientations, he understood that their brotherhood was at issue.

“You should have fucking told me. You shouldn’t have faced that alone.”

But his reasoning still clear to him, even after a lifetime. 

“I didn’t know how you were going to take it,” he carefully told Davey.

“Who gives a shit how I was going to take it? What difference would it have made?” He sounded hurt and confused. “I wasn’t going anywhere. We were brothers and we were still going to need each other. Anything you were going through, I was going through. And vice versa. Or so I thought.” 

Davey abruptly stopped. 

Then he turned away and said, “Now I feel like I was just kidding myself. Like everything we went through together was kind of— well, you know. A lie.”

He stared at Davey with a stopped heart.

Davey returned his look with an equally profound hurt. Then he lowered and shook his head.

“Of course it wasn’t a lie. I meant— I feel as though I failed you because you went through all that loneliness and alienation alone. I don’t want to fucking read about it and think my Jay went through that with me standing right next to him. You get me?”

He nodded hard.

“And I guess I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. And that I wish I had been there for you.”

He continued nodding, needing badly to get some control over his out of control heart.

But beyond that he couldn’t think, couldn’t come up with a defense to any of it. So he simply gave in to the truths behind the lifelong, opposite tugs on his heart.

He loved Davey. More than he could ever put into words. It was like having a piece of himself out there in the world. Always there to give him a hug when he needed one, to cheer him on when he needed it, and to hear his worst secrets and never be interested enough in the outside world’s opinion to mindlessly judge him for it.

His love for Davey and his fear of losing him would have kept him in the closet his entire life, or at least until he was too old to care. It wouldn’t have mattered what the social politics of sexuality dictated, he would have simply carried on the way he always had.

And then came his love for Holden, and the fear of losing him which would have had him shouting his sexuality from the rooftops, had he not had the convenience of a press conference to announce it. 

It wouldn’t have mattered what he lost. And that was also the truth.

He would have followed Holden wherever Holden wanted him, and he would have made a life wherever that had been.

What he felt for these two men was two sides of the same thing. He understood that. Gifted with the love of either, he would have been the happiest man in the world. 

Instead he had them both. And that was the most astonishing thing in the world.

He looked at Davey. “You were there for me,” he assured him. “I wasn’t lonely. You dickhead. I was so far from lonely I wouldn’t have known how to get there with a plane ticket and a VIP pass.”

Davey grinned and lowered his head.

“You made my life so fucking happy,” he told him, “it should have been a crime.”

“And I think in some parts of the country, it was,” Davey told him, fighting a smile. “Likewise, Jay. Likewise.”

Davey’s body began to relax, his breathing deepening. He felt his own heart doing the same, regaining its natural rhythm.

“And,” he slowly told Davey. “To honestly answer your question, yeah, I could’ve made a pass at you. But I’m pretty incest is still taboo in every state. So I could marry Holden, but I’d have to keep stringing you along.”

Davey dropped his head and laughed quietly for a long time.

“And you don’t want that,” he assured Davey.

“I sure don’t,” Davey managed to say around his laughter, wiping the corner of his eyes. “Thanks for making me feel pretty again, Sean,” he quietly joked.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

While Davey continued staring at the snow on the ground, he looked out at the town. The one that had made them the men they were today. 

But they had woken up one morning and everything had changed.

“Things sure are different when you’re older,” he mused.

“We really had no idea.”

Davey slowly straightened from the wall, turning to place a hand on his shoulder. He smiled into his eyes. Then he pulled him into his embrace and held him tightly.

He gripped Davey back. And they held each other until he turned and pressed a long, hard kiss to Davey’s neck.

“There it is,” Davey said warmly, making him laugh.

Davey planted a big kiss on his cheek, then pulled back and ruffled his hair. “Come, tiger. I’ve got the Wrangler downstairs.”

“Where’re we headed?” he asked, moving with him from the wall.

“For one last act of domestic terrorism,” Davey said, throwing him a look. “Before I have to face responsibility again, and you head back to you fancy L.A. lifestyle and I gotta keep up with your ass on CNN.”

“Aw, it won’t be like that this time.”

“Save that sweet talk for your man, Jackson.”

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

At some point during the night, he had felt Sean’s big, warm hand gently rubbing across his waist and waking him from sleep.

He had opened his eyes to see Sean crouched by the bed, staring intently at the evidence of his anger, the discoloration on his bare shoulder. 

His arms folded under his head, he had laid there and watched the emotions chase themselves across Sean’s face, coming to a heavy rest on his brow. “Fucking Christ,” Sean had whispered, lowering his head.

Sean, interestingly, had been fully dressed, his body hugged by a red flannel shirt underneath a black winter vest, and holding a sturdy pair of winter gloves.

While Sean had been blushing and rubbing his thumb over his bruised skin, struggling with what he presumed was self-flagellation, at what must have been two in the morning, he had been wondering whether he was having a delectable dream.

The winter weather had darkened Sean’s blond hair, which in its longer length was curling. And though he had shaved his mountain man beard and looked slightly more like he did in L.A., his light eyes looked so beautiful against his fairer skin that lying there satiated was all he could do to not to start thinking about eating him up.

Sean sighed, while he said nothing. Just basked in the afterglow of knowing that he had succeeded in his mission to Johnston.

“Why’re you dressed?” he eventually asked him.

“I gotta go out for a bit,” Sean replied hoarsely.

He moaned for an answer, his mind hazy and blissful. Sean slowly leaned forward and kissed the bruise on his shoulder, then his upper arm, then the larger one on in the middle of his lower back. His moan deepened, making him shift under the sheets.

Sean then began smoothing his hand down his back, ever so softly, and again and again, until he realized that Sean was trying to soothe him back to sleep. 

Smiling into the crook of his arm, he closed his eyes and did just that.

Hours later, he was up and could see that something else had happened during the night— a giant dump of pure white snow.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared at everything into the horizon having been turned into an enormous white powder puff, and tried to remember how the laws of nature worked. A big snowfall meant warmer temperatures, no? But glancing at the hotel’s iHome unit, he confirmed that he had no actual understanding of the laws of cold weather. He would have to dress warmer than ever.

He regretfully left the warm bed and went into the bathroom.

There, before the long mirror, he conducted the ritual that had fast become a part of his relationship with Sean. He gave himself a thorough mental once over.

Staring at his reflection, he told himself he had done well. He had set things the way he had hoped on his arrival that first night.

As for the bruises that Sean was so concerned about… 

He checked himself carefully, turning his shoulder into the mirror to get a better look. 

They were all healing nicely, the teeth marks on his ass all but gone.

Sean’s concern was duly noted, but he wasn’t about to let either of them get stuck on a kind of sexual contact he knew people paid good money for. 

It had never occurred to him to wonder whether he himself would be into it, and looking at his back and shoulders now, he could take or leave the physical results. 

But he didn’t remember feeling any pain at the time, and only remembered feeling that he was going to pop an orgasm so hard he would beed crutches for a week.

Tilting his head to the side, he checked his collarbone, near the base of his throat. That one was more hidden but…probably the worst. And its memory the most vivid.

He understood Sean’s embarrassment, but having a partner who could fuck supernovas into him wasn’t something he was eagerly going discuss curtailing. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he hadn’t worked so hard during the fall to find his long dormant sexuality only to have Sean back off when things got really interesting.

And he hadn’t missed Sean's bemusement with the whole football pants thing, so now it was Sean’s turn to man up about his God-given talents. They’d just have to see about dealing with Sean’s guilt over this particular issue.

Letting out a quiet breath, he reached for his toothbrush.

Unlike when he had initially come into town, he no longer believed that what he and Sean had had to roll over was just a minor, holdover, speed bump from their past. He understood now that he had witnessed something seismic in Sean’s life. 

He also wouldn’t deny that his own composure had been ruffled near the end there, when after dropping off Deena from the library he had been sure he was losing Sean.

He let out a harder breath, aware that he was trembling at the emotions suddenly coursing through him.

He gave himself a moment, watching the water swirling into the sink. Of all the things he could deal with in life, Sean telling him goodbye was not one of them.

And for the rest of his days he would be grateful for evenings like the last one when Sean had opened up to him, and had told him things that when looked at from this side of their relationship were absolutely mindless in their stupidity, and in his assurance that would save him from falling in love.

Had it not been for Sean’s unbelievably supportive family, he would have found himself in waters he easily couldn’t have navigated. 

So be it morally ambiguous sex or fear of fucking up their relationship, he was never running from anything between them again.

He finished brushing his teeth and slipped the toothbrush back on the holder. Then, wetting his hand, he smoothed his hair from his forehead and stared at himself a moment longer. To ensure that he was all-clear in the new milestones he had laid in his relationship.

Wandering back into the bedroom, he also was wondering where on earth Sean had gone at two o’clock in the morning in the first place.

It had to have something to do with his guy’s _other_ guy, of course. And though the thought of the two of them getting into God knows what in Davey’s souped-up Wrangler tied his stomach in knots, he knew not to bother calling anyone.

He’s been hearing about their legendary escapades since he got into town, and calling someone in his family would make him seem like he was crazy or something.

And he certainly couldn’t call Sean, whose phone was sitting on the bedroom’s nightstand, along with his wallet and the keys to his father’s truck. 

God only knew how Sean had gone anywhere in the middle of the night without a car, and why he had felt he didn’t need money or identification.

He sat on the bed and picked up his phone.

His own personal messages, meantime, had piled up. And except for Elliot’s asking whether he and Sean had made it for dreaded Valentine’s Day, he hadn’t responded to a single one.

And he had no intention of starting now, especially seeing the ones stacking up from his parents.

He stared at them. Each one had to do with his upcoming wedding. Every last one of them. Like daily newsletters. 

Considering that he hadn’t made a decision about even who would be planning it, he had to wonder whether his father and mother were planning a brand new wedding of their own he didn’t know about.

But in the midst of it all was a text from Michelle.

He opened it and told him to call her as soon as he woke up.

_You’re being invited to breakfast with the folks-in-law._

His heart kicked into a faster beat.

Slightly perturbed, he quickly tapped on her number. 

“What do you mean?” he asked as soon as she answered. “Who wants to have breakfast?”

“It’s going to be me, you, Davey’s parents, who’re in town,” she said amicably. “And Anne and Wil. I think there might be a couple more of their friends, but I’m not sure.”

“Just us? No Sean or Davey?”

“Nope.”

He fell silent, trying to figure out what that meant. If his parents wanted to have lunch with Sean alone that wouldn’t be a good thing at all.

“Why?” he simply asked.

“Because Anne wants to show you off. You’re her new baby boy, don’t you know? So come looking new and shiny like you just came out of the box.”

“But— shouldn’t we have had a little…warning?”

“Warning? It’s not an outside thing, it’s just family.”

His pounding heart didn’t allow him to grasp what that was supposed to mean.

But Michelle was already telling him to meet her at the parking lot in Greenbriar at ten.

Assuring her he would be there, he disconnected and quickly reentered the bathroom.

~*~

Michelle pulled up next to his spot at Greenbriar, in the white Lexus SUV he had thought was Davey’s but now realized was hers. She got out while he walked to the back of his car and stood anxiously waiting for her.

She beeped the car locked, dropped her keys into her handbag, then turned and looked at him.

“Wow,” she said, taking in his carefully put together appearance. Which he had put more thought into than he would have admitted. 

“You look _amazing,_ ” she said, then stopped, seeing his agitated state. “What is it? Why’re you so nervous?”

He shifted his weight, trying to find his focus, then glanced toward the restaurant and stammered, “I-I don’t know.”

God dammit. He had just promised himself he wouldn’t ever again be afraid of anything in his relationship with Sean. And now this.

It wasn’t fair. This technically wasn’t _in_ their relationship. What did this have to do with anything?

For the first time since he had met him, he wanted Sean there, holding hold his hand.

He turned back to Michelle. “Where’s Sean?” he blurted.

She gave him a momentarily confounded look. Then she saw that he wasn’t kidding.

“Honey,” she quickly said, coming closer to take his hand. “You’re going to be fine.” 

Squeezing his hand, she made him look at her. “I don’t understand. You’ve already been through the tough part, why’re you so scared all of a sudden?”

“I’m not scared, I just—”

But he couldn’t continue.

His inclination was to cover, to protect his feelings. 

But Elliot’s voice was suddenly crystal clear in his head, encouraging him to voice the evolutions in his feelings about Sean. And he suddenly remembered how far, and how successfully, that had taken him.

So he turned to Michelle and admitted that he sometimes worried that he didn’t fit in.

She just stared at him, clearly not understanding. A sense of foreboding began expanding in his chest. 

It was one thing to believe that Anne might want to like, or at least accept, him when she had been trying to make the problems between him and her son go away. That was understandable. 

But it was another thing to say that in a matter of a few tumultuous days she had taken enough to him to want to invite him to brunch without Sean.

Sean had tried to make him nervous about meeting them when he had picked him up last Friday for dinner, but he hadn’t been, because neither of them had known him then. But now that he had caused their son to act irrationally before them, after he had fucked their son, very loudly, in their house in the middle of the night, and proceeded to have a rather vicious fight with him afterwards, he felt they would be well within their rights to be a little stiff towards him.

At this point wouldn’t she just want all of this to go away, if nothing else so it wouldn’t turn awkward?

He took a step back, not wanting to do this. Wanting to do it with at least Sean present. 

“Michelle, you know, I think I’m gonna—”

She refused to release his hand. “Holden, listen to me.”

She waited until he was looking at her, and she looking directly into his eyes.

“Anne _never_ says what she thinks about anyone…which makes us all suspect she thinks we’re losers…but she’s been talking nonstop about you to Barbara.”

Barbara, he presumed, being Davey’s mother.

“Anne _likes_ you. You’re cordial, well mannered, and clearly gaga for her son. I don’t know how it is where you come from, but in most places that’s high marks for an in-law.”

She tightened her hold on his hand when she felt maybe he might still be pulling away. “Remember how I asked you to trust me that night at the bar, and we had Sean dragging you to his truck when it was all over?”

He nodded, blushing. He’d thought they had all left…

“Well, trust me now. Those folks in there? They think we’re perfect. Do you understand what I’m telling you? In-laws who think we’re perfect because we love their sons? That’s a blessing.”

“They don’t really think we’re perfect,” he said.

She lifted an eyebrow at him. It made him smile despite his nervousness.

“They do, cause they don’t know any better.” Then turning, she looked at his over her shoulder and shrugged sexily. “And who’re we to say. Right?”

Who indeed.

Heart thudding with trepidation, he nodded. He could do this. He took a breath and followed her into the restaurant.

—

Within seconds of entering the restaurant, however, he saw that Michelle had been right. Of course she had been right.

They approached a long flower filled table, at which Anne and Wil were seated with several older couples, some of whom he had met over the past week. Some at the bonfire and others at the Super Bowl cookout. 

His eyes, though, were on Anne

He was still nervous as hell, despite what Michelle had said. Maybe they liked his table manners fine, but would think him a volatile influence on their son.

But rather than stiffness, or even an air of distance towards him, Anne was outright emotional over him.

So powerful was his fear of her censure, that it took long moments for him to notice her state. 

But as they approached and she stood up and placed her napkin on the table, he suddenly saw that her hands were trembling.

When they reached the table, she pulled him into her arms and squeezed him for so tight and so long that his heartbeat forcibly slowed. 

He was still standing there with his arms by his sides until he realized that this was really happening. Then he wrapped them around her very, very tightly.

When she pulled back her face was flushed and her lips pressed tight. She smoothed wisps of flyaway blonde hair and struggled to maintain her composure.

He knew he was staring at her, his eyes probably inappropriately stuck on her. But he wanted to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

And to tell her thank you, and how sorry he was, and half a dozen other apologies he knew he owed her.

Her eyes as reserved as ever however, Anne simply cupped his cheek then swallowed convulsively and turned to the table.

“Everyone,” she said, a slight quiver to her voice as she held his hand. “This is Holden. My son-in-law.” She took a steadying breath and waved her hand. “Of course he and Sean aren’t married yet, but who cares,” she said firmly, while Wil nodded in apparent agreement. “He’s here to stay.”

The table greeted him, the ones he had met before giving him winks, like older people tended to do, and he lifted a hand in a weak and token hello. 

And while he stood there struggling not to just stand there holding her hand, Anne indicated that he take a seat. 

He did so, following Michelle, and then sitting down and simply staring at her.

He had somehow done it. He was okay by Sean’s parents.

An older gentleman whom he didn’t know, slightly older than the rest of them, and looking like a leaner Santa Claus, leaned across the table at Wil.

“A bit…genteel for Sean, don’t you think?” he said officiously.

Lifting a hand, Wil shook his head. “Trust me, Lewis,” he said heavily. “It works out.”

Lewis, bushy eyebrows lifted, nodded interestedly and sat back. Beside him was a sturdy woman whose green eyes he surprisingly recognized. Beside her sat Michelle.

“Holden,” Michelle said grandly, gesturing to the older couple. “I’d like you to meet Barbara and Lewis, Davey’s parents.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he said to them. “I’ve met your son.”

That didn’t seem to set off any particular bells with the couple who were, to put it mildly, nothing like he had expected.Though he wasn’t sure of what he had been expecting of the parents of a daredevil.

Certainly not a couple who looked like they didn’t no anything more exciting than get up in the morning and go putter around in the backyard.

Seeing the look on his face, and possibly aware of what he was thinking, Michelle lifted a hand and subtly covered the side of her mouth, and while Barbara and Lewis were looking towards Anne and Wil side of the table, she whispered, “Just wait.”

He smiled tight lipped, then stole another look at Anne, seated at the head of the table. He found her looking directly at him with a warm, kindly smile.

Though he was able to return her smile, his was still very tight. Because for the life of him, he couldn’t believe how thin the ice was he had just skated on.

Anne suddenly spoke up quietly to the table. “You know, Holden’s family are the Wilsons of Wilson Realty.”

“Ahh,” they said around the table, bringing a smile to his face.

He nodded his confirmation. And soon, after their servers had come for the orders, he found himself in a lake of opinionated older folk, talking about what it would take to fix the housing market once and for all. And soon after that, he noticed that the nature of the conversation itself was different than from Friday night.

That unlike that first night, Anne and Wil were no longer trying to see who he was. They weren’t asking personal questions, nor getting their friends to do so. Neither were they, unlike his father with Sean, vetting him for qualification into their world either.

Rather they were including him in their world, having him participate in a way that made him understand that he was no longer a stranger visiting their son. That at this breakfast, as of that morning, he was family.

He came to the realization the same time Barbara turned to Anne, covering her hand with her own. 

“He seems really sweet, Annie,” she said softly. “Just like you said.” 

She was speaking very quietly, but strains of her words were reaching his ears.

“And if he’s as tough as you said, and he loves Sean as much as you said,” she continued, placidly. “Then your prayers really were answered.”

Anne was nodding, her relieved expression there for all the world to see.

She really felt that he had answered a prayer? He looked across the table at Michelle.

Michelle was busily cutting into her cod. And without any indication that she was listening, she lifted an eyebrow clearly meant for him.

Leaning forward, he hid behind a flower arrangement and indicated that Michelle meet him halfway. She lowered her cutlery and leaned in, cocking her ear.

“Please don’t ever let me screw this up,” he whispered, tilting his head toward Anne and Wil. “Sean is too close to the issue, and…I know how it is when it’s your own parents. But I think you know what I’m asking, don’t you?”

“Absolutely, and done.” She held his eyes with her dark ones. “We’re in this club together,” she said quietly, “and I promise you, Holden, I have got your back.”

Finally, with a quiet breath, he sat back.

And then his mind travelled far away. To somewhere no one could have convinced him he’d be thinking just this past fall, when Sean had been haranguing him about wanting to bring him home for Thanksgiving and Christmas against Paula’s wishes.

He had thought Sean was being precious about not wanting to miss family gatherings. Now he didn’t know how Sean had been able to stay away.

Because he was far gone conjuring up Jackson and Jones family get-togethers.

He envisioned himself in the midst of a large and caring extended family, grilling and drinking beer, while getting kisses from Sean, and making sure that the neighborhood kids got enough veggies on their plates, all the while arguing knowledgeably about which teams were going to make it to the playoffs.

Well, maybe not that last part, unless the NFL switched to a color coding system. Which Sean had assured him wasn’t going to happen. 

Then again, what did Sean know about finding new markets for business.

At this point he knew he smiling uncontrollably. He could feel it, but for the life of him, he couldn’t make himself stop. And just then he saw Anne looking directly at him.

He helplessly gave her the biggest, most idiotic smile of his life.

It was so unexpected, he supposed, that she burst into sudden, rich laughter. And made her look exactly like Sean.

~*~

Later in the parking lot, he stood holding Michelle’s hand, like a little kid.

She hugged and kissed him, and he gave her a very tight hug in return, making her pull back and rolled her eyes at him, smiling as if she found him entirely too amusing.

“Was I right or was I right? Does that woman not love you?”

“It’s hard to believe, but…” 

There was much going on in his mind. He had done a lot of work in LGBT charity communities and yet he didn’t believe he had ever spoken to a parent—to a mother whose strongest hope for her son was that he find love and companionship like everybody else.

Or perhaps he had, and theory and practice just weren’t in the same world.

He kept a hold of Michelle’s hand. “Thank you, Michelle,” he told her quietly. “Not just for this. You’ve been very kind to me since I got here, and I want you to know it means more to me than I can tell you.”

“It has been my pleasure. And I have no idea what you were talking about not fitting in, because as far as I can see, you fit in perfectly. You’re exactly what Sean needs.”

“A constant headache?” he asked, laughing.

“Yes,” she replied firmly, her eyes pinned on him. “He’s been way too comfortable running around at Davey’s side. It was high time he got out there and got his toes wet.”

Surprised by her words, the idea intrigued him.

But she got on her toes, and with him having to bend over, pecked a small kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll see you tonight at the park?”

“What’s happening at the park?”

“Sean didn’t tell you?”

“No…we…really haven’t had time to talk.”

She laughed, tossing her black hair. “No shit” she said, reaching into her bag for her keys. “Well, what’re you doing this afternoon?”

“Kay and I are going souvenir shopping.”

“Oh, fun! Make sure she takes you to our old high school to show you all of Sean’s football trophies.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

“Okay, bye, sweetie. See you later.”

And with that she climbed into her big Lexus, waved at him, and was off.

Feeling slightly in a daze, he got in his Audi rental and drove slowly to Kay’s.

~*~

Kay was at her front door before he was done parking. He had pulled in behind her Rover was pulling up her name on his phone when she exited the front door, waving at him.

Waving back, he put his phone away and watched as she expertly traversed the salted walkway from the house. While Allison had been his vocal assurance that Sean wouldn’t walk away from their rift, Kay had proved to be his lifeline during his stay.

Because her office was out of her home, and he had been working out of his hotel suite, she had arranged her schedule so that they caught their lunches together. Though he had always been able to use work to take his mind off problems with Sean, his stay would have been multiple times more stressful had it not been for her.

While he was conscious that being there was one of the things family members did for each other—including, evidently, helping you climb up to your estranged fiancé’s room when needed—these were still assists that made him feel…very loved, especially because he was quite certain that in his own community, a fight like the one he had just had with Sean would have had them stirring up cocktails and getting comfortable in lounge chairs.

It was somewhat inexplicable that he had come to Johnston believing only that he needed to get Sean back. Yet he had somehow ended up checking off every task he typically assigned to a “normal” existence. A normal relationship with one man, a normal family life, and a normal community of friends and neighbors.

Somehow he had slipped the reins of his two dimensionality and now found himself, unbelievably, in a wonderful, three dimensional world.

Kay reached his passenger side door, opened it and leaned inside.

“Are ya crippled yet?!” she cried.

He burst into laughter, shaking his head no. She hadn’t seen him since his voluntary retreat with Sean two days ago.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll drive.”

He gratefully put the Audi in gear and backed out, only too happy to hand over the dreaded winter driving to someone else.

~*~


	3. Chapter 3

Marlene, their longtime waitress at Hashers, took one look at their physical state and told them to go sit outside on the patio. 

They obediently went.

Davey pulled out his chair just as something on him began making bird sounds. 

He watched in slight disbelief as Davey reached inside his winter coat and pulled out his cell phone, speechless at the absurd ringtone Davey had chosen for his absurd phone. 

Checking the caller on the face of his antiquated flip phone, Davey grinned.

“It’s Big Momma,” Davey said, extending the phone to him. “Right on schedule as ever, so think pure thoughts.”

Wondering how on earth Allison did it, he took the phone from Davey. Whenever they returned from doing something she would tag their asses for, almost without fail something in the universe always told her to call. 

“Hey, Allison,” he said while he and Davey took their seats. He hadn’t seen or spoken with her since their talk Super Bowl Sunday. “Long time no see.”

“How are you, kiddo?” she asked warmly.

“I’m pretty good.”

“And Holden? Is he still willing to marry you?”

Grinning, he kept his eyes on the floor. “Yeah, he is.”

“All right,” she said soothingly. “I guess you ran far enough.”

“I guess I did.”

“You’ve been very brave, Sean. None of the things you went through were easy.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Okay,” she said on a big sigh. “So now you’re going to keep being brave. The city council wants to—”

He didn’t hear the rest of her sentence under the deep groan that pushed out of him. He sat back and ran his hand through his hair.

From the noise in the background, it sounded like she was driving, and on a workday for John Deere and in the middle of winter, he really hated to add to her morning stress. But he couldn’t help himself. Any time he so much as ventured within a thirty-mile radius of the town, the city council sent their reps hounding after him. He loved his town to pieces, but his distaste for anything political kept them at arms length.

“I was _this close_ to not having to deal with any of this,” he moaned, not even having heard the request. 

“A speech, Sean,” Allison was saying over his protest. “That’s all they’re asking.”

“A _speech?_ Are they serious?”

“Of course they are.’

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, tonight.”

He grimaced. The town was having its annual sledding night at the main park in town. It was usually a time for families to take their kids out and let them exhaust themselves for the night. And with the snowfall from last night, it was bound to be a big turnout tonight.

“They’ve got you cornered this time. You’ve been here for over two weeks and everybody knows it. So just— give in to them and think of something to say already, will ya?”

“Like what, though?” he asked, glancing helplessly at Davey who was busy pilfering ketchup bottles from other tables onto theirs. Being mid-morning, they were alone on the patio.

Davey then sat back down and indicated that he hand over the phone. He gladly did so. Davey took the phone and placed it on the table, then leaned forward and hit the button to make it go on speaker phone.

“—makes me think that maybe you need a second publicist,” Allison was saying. “You don’t want Kara handling anything outside of the league, so maybe it’s time you got someone else involved.”

He scrubbed his forehead. Couldn’t he have just made up with Holden and then have time to enjoy it without any hassles? He had just come off a crap experience and all he wanted was some time to himself to understand why he did it.

“The council’s not going to pass up this opportunity Sean. And I can’t say I blame them. You’ve been dodging them for years, and meanwhile you’re one of the biggest celebrity in the country, if not the world, after your coming out. How do you expect them to just sit back and not take advantage of that?”

“Call Holden,” Davey said at the phone.

His heart bumped. His eye had flown to Davey. What was Davey doing?

Allison, sounding hopeful, said, “Tailgate, you think he’d go for that?”

“Oh, yeah,” Davey said. “Michelle told me how he handled that Christian thing from last summer, killed it, and Sean’s told me a couple of things about him too. I’m pretty sure he could give the city council what they wanted in his sleep.”

Still surprised, he leaned over and whispered, “How does Michelle about last summer?”

Davey hovered a hand over the speakerphone. “Kay told her,” he replied in a whisper. “ _Shh._ ” He lifted his hand from the phone. “So what’d you think, big momma?”

“I think it’s not a bad idea at all.” 

She then paused. “Where the hell are you two?”

They both froze, exchanging looks, suddenly fearing that she could somehow see their state. He glanced at the Wrangler, parked in the lot facing the restaurant. They probably should have washed it first.

“Uh…” Davey stalled. “Just…catching some breakfast,” he said vaguely.

Allison didn’t immediately respond, and he was sure they were busted. But he could hear her swearing under her breath at another motorist instead.

“All right,” she said distractedly, clearly so, otherwise she should have caught that them “catching breakfast” at noon wasn’t a sign of anything productive on their part.

“I’ll call Holden right now,” she said. “Thanks.”

She had disconnected before he was able to add anything, leaving him wondering whether something good or bad had just happened.

Ignoring Davey’s observant gaze, he reached around their plates for the phone, pushing the button he figured would pull up the recent-calls list. He called her back.

“Hey, Allison?” he said hesitantly when she answered. “Could you hold off calling him until I see him? I got a couple things…I need to say to him first.”

“Pussy,” Davey said softly. He glanced at Davey, lining up food laden plates in front of him, and wondered whether he could feed him all his eggs at once.

“Well, I’ll let him know you want to speak with him beforehand,” Allison said. “But I gotta give him at least a heads up.”

“Okay, sounds good. Thanks.”

He disconnected and sat back, reaching forward to pull his own plates towards him. And further ignored Davey’s loaded silence.

“So…” Davey said slowly. “What’re ya gonna say to him?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Come on,” Davey said, laughing. “What _couple of things_ are you planning on saying to him, before he has to represent your dodging ass to the city council.”

“I’m not telling you. I don’t need you throwing me off.”

It made Davey laugh even more. “Come on,” he coddled. “I wanna help. Do a practice run on me.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna do that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Not with that shit eating grin on your face, you’re not.”

“I’ll get it off right now.”

But Davey couldn’t, and he focused on eating his breakfast.

Allison’s talk on Super Bowl Sunday had opened the doors to the heart of his pain, bringing understanding to him that Holden had broken his heart in a deep and profound way. Merely finally accepting her words had permitted him to finally plunge down into his anger, as out of control as it turned out being the next night when Holden climbed up to his bedroom. And he understood what Davey had said to him on Ahmenson’s rooftop. That there were things being hurt this way did to your mind, things you had to simply accept, and that levelheadedness didn’t add up to much in this context. 

But he still felt raw and he wanted to make sure he didn’t misstep any more where Holden was concerned. He therefore didn’t feel right dumping fresh problems on Holden, no matter how small. He did feel that he would be making up for it for the rest of his life.

So as to what he wanted to say to Holden, the same question Holden has asked in his hotel room, well, he couldn’t tell either of them what he himself didn’t know. Though Holden had probably thought he had harsh words to say, “Thank you,” though completely inadequate, were yet the only words that kept coming to mind.

Marlene appeared with the rest of their order. Carefully placing the heavy tray on their table, she plucked their order from her apron, perused it for a flash, then decided she wasn’t going to bother since they had ordered pretty much everything on the breakfast menu.

She slapped the piece of paper on the table. “Leave room for desert,” she said drolly, and headed back into the restaurant.

While she walked off, he stared at Davey’s dirty, old, offensive phone which had been bumped in the melee of plates. 

With his fork, he pointed at it. “Get rid of that thing.”

“Don’t even,” Davey said, sliding it off the table and slipping it back into his coat pocket.

He chuckled, pulled over a plate, and dug into a heap of scrambled eggs.

—

They finished breakfast, leaving Marlene a big tip and even bigger hugs, and headed back to the Wrangler. They were grasping the door handles when someone called their names.

They glanced over to see a man they didn’t know waving at them as he strolled toward the restaurant.

“Hey, how’s it going,” he called back.

“It’s going great! I just saw Holden buying souvenirs at Brett’s!”

He glanced at Davey, wondering how this guy would know Holden, and then realized he was being dense. At this point _he_ was probably the only person who didn’t know Holden’s daily schedule in Johnston. Though, why the guy was telling him was another matter.

“Perfect,” Davey muttered instead, and hurriedly got into the Wrangler. “Thanks!” he called out to the man, who acknowledged with a raised hand and entered the restaurant.

Not getting into the Wrangler for the moment, he stayed by the passenger door and clutched its frame.

“Hold up.”

“No, it’s cool,” Davey said hastily, strapping himself in. “We’re not going to talk to him. I just want to see what he’s buying.”

“What do you care what he’s buying?”

“Come on,” Davey said briskly, turning the ignition. “Get in, or you’re walkin’ over.”

Sighing, he pulled open the door and got in.

—

Brett’s was actually a sports and souvenir shop called Pro Haven. But not even Brett called it that. They were parked at a metered spot across the street and staring at the storefront, which was made of glass.

“Jones, move the car,” he said, not for the first time.

Davey continued to ignore him.

From where they sat, they had a clear view into the store where sure enough, Holden was shopping for souvenirs.

Holden was clutching so many random items with Johnston and Chargers insignia on them that Brett was probably going to close up early.

That was the first thought that crossed his mind. The second was that there might be something fundamentally fucked with the way his memory worked when it came to Holden.

Because watching him now, and from just having seen him less than twelve hours ago, he felt like he was having a lucid fantasy. Holden looked so good that he felt like he had just discovered being gay.

He sat there staring in mild confusion.

“That is one good looking dude,” Davey said reverently.

He turned and look at Davey, with probably the dumbest expression on his face, because Davey immediately choked on his spit. 

It _was_ kind of funny, he supposed, but at least Davey could see it too.

“What’s it take to look like that?” Davey asked, both of them turning to peer back at the store. “Does he have a tailor? Or is that he uses conditioner?”

He had no answers. “I think…he just…looks good in winter or something.” His voice sounded faint even to his own ears.

Something had opened up inside him. And if it had been now that he had met Holden, he knew there would have been no way he could have remained in the closet seeing him for three years. He felt that anyone walking by now could see how he felt quite easily.

Holden was talking in his usual “I just met you, so now I have to talk in sheaves” to Brett, who was nodding and holding out various options of souvenirs for Holden’s perusal. Kay, standing next to Holden, had a shopping basket hooked over her arm and was pointing out specific things to him while Holden nodded vigorously. 

Holden then said something, Brett then made an “Ah,” expression, raised a “Be right back” hand, and quickly vanished into the back shelves.

“What’s he getting?” Davey asked, leaning harder from his side of the Wrangler. 

A little curious too, he tried to see. “I don’t know…”

“Maybe he’s…” Davey’s voice faded. And not having taken his eyes off Holden in the store, he immediately saw why. 

Brett had returned with an armful new items, dangling one set in particular in front of Holden. 

Both he and Davey automatically leaned closer to his passenger side window. 

They could see the item clearly: a pair of leather gloves. Fingerless, and Chargers blue…and plastered with his uniformed body on their backs.

They were easily the ugliest, most bizarre things he had ever seen.

“Holy shit,” Davey whispered. “That is fucking _dirty._ ”

He couldn’t even respond. Didn’t _he_ give permission for things like that? When had he agreed to having his body on something so ill-advised?

Opposite Brett in the store, Holden had stilled, his eyes latching on the gloves. And when he finally spoke he was obviously stammering. Following which Brett happily put _two_ pairs in the basket held forward by a laughing, knowing Kay.

“He’s getting two,” Davey said in awe. “Jesus. It’s like the time I went with Michelle to the Hustler store in New York. I was just like, _what_ the _fuck._ ”

“All right, let’s go,” he said, straightening in his seat. They’d been there long enough. They were well overdue for someone in the shop to look up and see two idiots staring at them from across the street.

“Drive,” he pressed.

And right then, Kay did.

“Fuck,” he said softly.

Kay titled her head and frowned. Her eyes narrowed. Beside her, Holden was focused on sorting items from one hand to the other. Kay slowly elbowed Holden. 

Holden looked at her, while she indicated with her head toward them. Holden looked up through the glass front, saw them sitting there, probably looking just like the two dumbasses he pictured, and stopped sorting.

He’d stopped moving as well. Aside from not having the words to apologize properly, he sure as hell hadn’t planned on doing it in front of an audience, and sure as fuck not Davey.

Who still hadn’t turned on the ignition.

“You stay here,” he quickly said. “I’m going to meet him.”

“Or,” Davey said, indicating the store. “He could come meet us.”

He quickly turned to see Holden setting his loot on the counter. Seconds later Holden was exiting the store and stepping off the snow-cleared pavement. 

Checking traffic both ways, he began crossing, walking towards them in his loping manner, both hands shoved in his space station winter jacket and an eager expression on his face.

His heart started beating harder.

“All right, listen,” he said to Davey, his eyes on Holden. “Don’t say anything to him. I’ll do the talking.”

“What is this, a hostage negotiation?”

“I’ll _take_ you hostage if you say something weird to him.”

“You mean like, hey Holden, how’re those fingerless leather gloves gonna feel against your lotioned up dick when you’re jerking off to my man here. Something like that?” 

And, Davey was speaking in that tone that meant he was more than ready to take him on. Holden meanwhile had made it across the street and was just a few yards from them.

He turned to Davey and thumbed at Holden. “That’s my fucking fiancé. You treat him with respect.”

“And that’s my future brother-in-law,” Davey said, letting down the passenger side window. “We have _a shit load_ to talk about you. So let’s not even go there. Shh, _shh._ Here he is. Hey, Holden,” Davey said genially, drawing out the greeting.

Davey was leaning forward, innocently staring across the interior of the Wrangler. “How’s it going?”

“Hi there,” Holden breathed, coming to a rest against the passenger side door. 

Folding his arms on the lowered window frame, Holden shone thrilled blue eyes at him. 

Then, taking in their appearance, which Marlene had not wanted inside the restaurant, Holden quickly flicked his eyes at the state of the Wrangler. He took in the state of the doors, the hood, and the front fender, all of which were sporting the new coat of mud and snow he and Davey had gifted the Wrangler around three o’clock that morning. They themselves looked only marginally better.

Holden’s eyes then flew to Davey, registering a fleeting look of consternation, as if he might be inclined to find Davey the unnerving element in all of this. 

Just as fast, however, Holden got the look off his face. But it made him suddenly aware that Holden found Davey unnerving in general. 

Holden brought his gaze back to him, lighting a glowing, very pretty smile on him. 

“Fancy meeting you two here,” Holden said softly.

“Yeah…” he said quickly, before Davey could get a word in. “We were just…uh, passing through. Just…thought we’d stop by and…uh—”

He stopped talking. He had just realized that he hadn’t kissed Holden hello. Not so much as a peck on the cheek.

He sat there, feeling even more confused.

And he was aware that Holden was noting all of it as well. His stiffness, his omission of even a small kiss.

“Well, that’s nice of you,” Holden said in an easy tone, in response to his explanation that they were just driving by.

And since Holden hadn’t miraculously developed a filter for his thoughts, he asked, “So does just stopping by come with a kiss? Or not?”

Holden’s eyes were on him. 

And he noticed then that they were full of…appreciation, of all things.

“It’s just us guys, you know,” Holden prompted when he just sat there.

Swallowing, he fought a frown and murmured an apology. 

But he still didn’t move.

Now mainly because he was trying not to breathe in Holden’s scent. 

But helplessly his mind was being flooded with memories that had been the root cause of him ordering Holden’s shower gel in those hard as fuck months they had been forced apart. Images of the two of them in the shower, of Holden with his hands up against the wall and water pouring off his head as he tried to survive whatever he had made him go crazy trying to do to him.

He tightened his jaw against the sensations taking over him, having spent the latter part of the fall giving in to his need and using the gel as jerk-off lube in the shower. That up against the shower wall had been his go-to image.

A horny loser. That was him right now.

Holden was still smiling serenely at him. He said, “Do I smell or something?”

“You smell pretty good, actually,” Davey said. 

He turned a quick glare on Davey, who shrugged.

“Thanks,” Holden smokily said, then, apparently tired of waiting for him, leaned into the car. First he bumped his head against the door frame, said, “Oops,” and then pushed the rest of the way in.

He held his breath as Holden pushed a candy-sweet, sultry kiss onto his lips. Then Holden rubbed the tips of their noses together, making soft, murmuring sounds, making his body tighten so much he just sat there. He discreetly parted his lips and slid his tongue gently into his mouth. 

Holden made an even softer sound, and he reached for Holden’s face, covering as much of their kiss from Davey’s intrusive gaze as he could. Eyes open, he slipped his fingers into Holden’s hair. And as the strands fell over his fingers, heat flooding him, he calmly went over the Chargers’ most complex offensive plays.

Holden breathed hotly against his mouth, his skin just as hot.

He visualized the play action in his head. It wasn’t working. It never did.

Holden was kissing him as if it was just the two of them, touching the back of his head and softy scratching the hair there, making him want to spread his thighs. Instead he took hold of Holden’s jacket and held it, feeling as though he was going to need to be mopped up after.

The sound of honking reached their ears.

Holden slowly pulled back, his eyes alight and his face flushed with excitement. None of them looked at the car that had honked, now at the intersection.

“Now you’re making it hard,” Holden said disarmingly. “But I gotta get back. I’m getting—you know, mostly town stuff…”

He ignored Davey’s deafening non-reaction.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” he told Holden. Holden nodded, then Davey a short wave.

“Thanks for— Monday night, Davey,” Holden said haltingly. “I-I— really appreciated it.”

“Any time,” Davey said. “See you later.”

Holden left, and Davey wordlessly put the Wrangler into gear and pulled into traffic.

~*~

Kay took him to Sean’s old high school from Brett’s souvenir shop.

Kay was still shaking her head over Sean and Davey’s sudden appearance at the store, but he had been more concerned about the state of Davey’s Jeep, not to mention of both men. 

All three had looked like they had had a close call with a dirty, snowy wooly mammoth. Davey had obviously customized his Wrangler for that kind of thing, nevertheless it had been heart-stopping seeing it up close. He was pretty sure the car would need a paint job after now.

And Sean had acted a little bumpy himself. Even leaving aside Sean’s angst over the bruises, he knew that Sean had lingering embarrassment over how their rift had ended. 

Sean was one of those people who believed that good people didn’t do bad things, whereas he believed that good people did bad things all the time. It would take Sean some time to accept that his truth might lie somewhere in the middle.

Kay was telling him about a big event being held in town that night, an annual families night in the park, and he nodded as he listened to the details. It was the same thing that had surprised Michelle that Sean hadn’t told him about. 

While the thought of frolicking around in freezing weather as fun seemed counterintuitive to him, he figured it was what people did in these parts. But Kay assured him he would have a blast. He laughed a little and told her sure.

Sean and he hadn’t discussed returning to L.A., but if he knew Sean and how deferential he could get when he was feeling guilty, he was sure Sean would prefer to return him to his world as soon as possible.

But as they drove through the town, he looking out the window at the passing winter landscape, and he knew he wasn’t quite ready to return.

Not to the cynicism and the negativity. This morning’s brunch with Anne was still warming his heart and he hadn’t had even one full day to indulge in the perfect family vacation that he had dreaming of.

The last few days, though capped off deliciously, had been hectic and he wanted nothing more than to return to Anne and Wil’s and sit out on that deck with Sean by his side, looking at him like he had while sitting the Wrangler. Except, this time in full view of his family and his friends. 

He wanted Sean to happily hold him and kiss him publicly, like all those people following the Twitter account would like, until each of them got to send a tweet that they had seen it for themselves. Sean’s embarrassment, he’d take in stride.

In short, he wanted Sean to be here with him, in this town, consummating their relationship for the whole world to see. He wanted it before he would ever be ready to go back to L.A.

—

Twenty or so minutes later, they were staring at an array of Sean’s high school football trophies. Set beside engraved plaques, some were team trophies, but one or two were Sean's alone, for records he had set.

But he was staring at the team photographs, at one in particularly. It had never crossed his mind to think of what Sean was like as a teenager. He had lost his breath completely. Kay remained silent, watching him interestedly, like a mother watching a child to catch a special moment unfold.

“God,” he whispered, taking in the faded black and white image. It was a team picture, all the team members in sweats and team jerseys. Sean was staring attentively at the camera, his soft eyes and a slight smile stealing the show. 

The picture was nothing out of the ordinary, but unannounced, the boy inside it had tapped into an ocean of love and affection he hadn’t know existed inside him.

He up looked at Kay. 

She smirked. “He didn’t look like a hell raiser, did he?”

“He looked…” Holding his head and shaking it, he straightened. “I’m so screwed. I can’t start collecting pictures of a teenager. I’ll go to prison.”

Kay cracked up, nodding understandingly. “Your collection is about to get dangerous.”

And Anne had mentioned at their brunch that she and Barbara had recently digitized a slew of family pictures. Barely registering the idea then, now the thought of seeing a whole other, younger and more vulnerable, side of Sean’s life was making him lose focus.

It was then that his phone chimed. He had gotten his act even more together and had given each of Sean’s family a sound profile. A chime was a call from Allison.

Taking out his phone, he showed it to Kay, who at first look curious, then nodded as if suddenly remembering why Allison would be calling. He tapped to answer and brought the phone to his ear.

~*~

“Fuck. I forgot to ask him about tonight.”

Several miles out of town, they had pulled up on a dirt road along some farm somewhere off the Interstate. Davey had said he wanted to show him something and so they were trudging through the start of a snowy field.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not all you forgot. Not even giving him a kiss hello? And I _know_ you were doing mental math when you finally did it. _Weak._ You couldn’t just kiss him back? Where was your game, dude?”

“I’m not sucking face with you gawping.”

“Why though?” Davey asked, sounding baffled. “I’ve _fucked_ in front of you. You’ve gotten blowjobs from cheerleaders who didn’t want to go all the way, right in front of me.”

“We were seventeen and in the back of trucks. And we were all fully clothed, so don’t make it sound like that.”

“I don’t have to make it sound like anything. You’re not this prudish. I thought that night at the bar was just because you two were fighting. But apparently not.” Davey suddenly paused, turning to him. “Don’t tell me you’re shy of making out with a guy in public.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that.”

“So what then? ‘Cause if I’d stiffed Michelle like that in front of you, she would have killed both you _and_ me.”

He fell silent. He was still without a valid explanation, even to himself.

“What are you getting out of this, anyway?” he asked instead. “What do you care if I make out with him in front of you or not?”

Davey glanced at him, surprised. “Jay, are you kidding?Okay, remember that day I walked into a wall because Michelle wore a bikini to that pool party Ricky Alvarez threw, you know, the one when his parents went to Guatemala?”

Caught off guard, he gave in to the laughter that pushed out of him. That had been a bone fide classic. What a fuckup Davey had been. Though he’d been no better.

Plodding along beside him, Davey sighed. “I never got to see you make an ass out of yourself in front of girls. I’m like that father who missed out on his son’s most important moments growing up. The first kiss, the first dance, the first _time._ I’m not kidding about any of the stuff I said last night on ol’ Ahmenson’s rooftop. This experience is more precious than gold to me.”

“Yeah,” he said, trudging on while Davey spilled his dumb feelings. “You’re a regular father of the year.”

Davey chuckled. Then he stopped, and said, “Here we are.”

He halted and looked up across snowy field.

Perhaps he hadn’t been paying attention, or maybe it had been too long so that he hadn’t noticed the terrain, but in the distance ahead sat an old abandoned barn.

Illuminated in the dusk by an early evening moon, the barn sat silent and alone, its dark wood exposed in stark contrast to the whiteness all around it.

It was exactly as he had last seen it, frozen in time.

He was speechless.

Turning to Davey, he stared at him in astonishment. “H-how did you know?”

“Allison told me.”

But…how did Allison know?

“How’s it feel?” Davey asked softly.

He turned back to the looking at the barn, and for a moment nothing happened. Then he saw the landscape changing around the barn, different seasons playing out.

This had been the one in which he used to visit a farm boy named Aaron, shy and quiet, and in need of glasses. But whose family hadn’t been able to afford it then.

In all the time they had spent together, they hadn’t spoken much, each knowing that their situation was delicate.

But they had been good to one another. Considerate, and they would leave each other satiated and calm. Always. 

He took a breath and moved his gaze father afield, even though the other barn was miles from there. There, years later in that second one, it had been a boy named Matt. A little more unsure, but just as giving.

Though each boy’s personality had been different, they had had, all three of them, loving homes in common. All they had been looking for was someone with whom to share the _other_ feelings.

Thinking about it now, it was undeniably the reason why, even with all the strangeness that had surrounded their relationship from the start, when Holden had proved so open, so fearless and so caring, he had stood no chance against falling in love.

“It feels good,” he finally said, humbly. 

And gazing at the expanse of snowy field under the evening light, he realized something. “I had a good life, Jones. A hell of a lot easier than most people’s, straight or gay.” 

Davey nodded, staring at the barn as if he could see things from its weather-beaten sides. “And I feel honored to be standing here, Jay,” Davey said softly. “Really, I do.”

He glanced at Davey.

Davey looked back at him, his eyes bright with genuine happiness. Then he reached into his battered old pea coat, another piece of antiquity he wouldn’t let go of, and pulled out a whiskey flask. 

He stared in blank confusion at it. They didn’t drink hard liquor.

“Your mom’s spiked stuff,” Davey explained, proudly holding out the flask.

“How’d you get it?” he asked, chuckling.

“I told her it was for a special occasion. She’s feeling very emotional these days.” 

They laughed, enjoying the moment to have lived long enough to see his sweet but no-nonsense Midwestern mother turn into a big softie.

Cracking open the flask, Davey lifted it toward the barn. “Here’s to that kid,” he said, and took a deep swig. He handed it over.

“Here’s to all of them,” he finished, taking the flask, and lifting it to the barn. Then draining the hard cider, he waited the few seconds it took to make the edges sharper on everything.

Then they stood side by side on this perfect winter’s evening, and brought this formerly invisible part of his past into existence. And made it, too, a part of their brotherhood.

~*~


	4. Chapter 4

Allison had asked him to see to a speech Johnston’s city council wanted Sean to make. Being their annual family night, the council wanted a speech about being part of the community.

Allison had said Sean was more than happy to do it but that Sean didn’t want the part where he had to then sit down and schmooze with politicians afterward. He told her he’d handle it.

So beanie on, thermal underwear on, for goodness sake, same with thick winter gloves, he transferred food warmer boxes and winter toys from the ground where they had been stacked into the back of Kay’s Land Rover.

With the front door open he could hear Kay calling to Deena and her friends to chop chop!

His own stashed his own goodies from that afternoon’s souvenir shopping in his hotel suite, at first thinking that he would pack them up. 

But the moment he had started dismantling his temporary workstation, watching his stacks of files and paper disappear off the writing desk where they had been for what felt like so long, he found he couldn’t do it.

He still didn’t want to think about L.A.

And his messages, he had seen, hadn’t petered out. It had been eight days since he left town, so for them it might as well be that morning. But for him it felt like eight years.

Craig and Petey were probably sure that he had finally, permanently gone insane.

And he had to admit, standing there freezing but blissfully loading up Kay’s Land Rover with kids toys, that he felt dangerously at home.

He’d call Elliot tonight. 

His parents, however… no.

Suddenly a small pair of arms flung themselves around his waist, startling him out of his thoughts. 

Raising an arm, he looked down to see Deena in a green frog-head winter hat, smiling up at him. Evidently, very happy to see him.

“Hi, Holden,” she said in a soft voice that completely melted his insides.

“Hi, Ms. Pie,” he replied, making her giggle. Setting the last of the warmer boxes into the trunk, he bent and hugged her tight, dropping a kiss on her crown. She squeezed him back. 

Out of the blue, he recalled the father at Sean’s training camp last July telling him that there was a moment like this waiting for him in the future. The man had been right. Though what continued to astound him was how seamless the transition was from rejecting parenthood to lovingly embracing it on a cold winter evening. How natural it felt when at the right time and with the right person.

Deena stood back and lifted an interested gaze at him. 

“Did you and Sean have fun visiting your friend who hasn’t seen you in a long time and was he happy to see you?”

It took him a moment to piece together her question. 

Just then, Kay, who was hustling out of the house surrounded by Deena’s three little friends, caught his eye, and he instantly got that that must have been the explanation the adults had given her as to his and Sean’s sudden two-day disappearance.

“Yes, absolutely,” he told her, liking the metaphor of visiting an old friend very much. “We did have a great time visiting him and he was _very_ happy to see us.”

Deena nodded, seeming quite pleased with the ultimate conclusion. Then she turned around as her three friends came up, flocking around each other like small colorful birds. The Mouseketeers, Kay called them.

Deena leaned into their circle. “This is Sean’s fiancé,” she whispered to them. “His name is Holden.” Though, in her little girl Midwestern accent, he was _Holdin’_ and Sean was _Shahn._

He chuckled to himself, wondering that he used to think Sean had a Midwestern accent. Now he realized that compared to most people here, Sean sounded completely like the Angeleno he totally was.

The other girls had started shrieking quietly among themselves at the news, jumping up and down in place. They gave little waves and cascaded hellos at him.

Then they cried in unison, “We love Sean!”

“He’s the best at taking us shopping!” one of them adjoined. “And next time, you _have_ to come with us!”

“That’s if you like to shop, Holden,” Deena quickly added, looking up hopefully at him.

“I…like to shop for cookies,” he offered, and they all screamed wildly, assuring him that the like was collective.

He couldn’t believe how adorable they were. He glanced at Kay. She saw his smile and slowly shook her head. 

“It’s not always like this,” she said very softly, circling her finger above the heads of the jubilating girls. Then coming around them to the back of the Rover, she checked that they had packed everything.

She scoped the back, nodding.

“I don’t imagine it is,” he replied her. “But compared to some of the things I pulled on Sean, especially when he was gone during the season, I’d imagine that, um, theirs would be considered child’s play.”

She turned and looked at him, her gaze sharp with apparent revelation.

“You know, you’re the type of person that makes a great parent. Nothing’s gonna surprise you.”

His smile widened in union with his thumping heart. He had no idea how he was able to murmur a “Thank you,” around it.

“All right, come on girls,” she called, waving them along the side of the Rover.

He went up and opened the back door, and then stood in deep amusement as each little girl, trumping up into the Rover, rubbed his leg like a good luck charm before climbing in.

—

On the drive over, he fielded questions as to many things that were important to a child’s way of thinking. Why his parents had named him “Holding,” why he was getting married to Sean—did he love him like _they_ loved him, or was it different—and what the reliability of snowfall was in L.A., especially around Christmas time.

And soon, he was merely listening to the very chatty friends talking quietly and self-contemplatively in the back, diligently trying to unravel the mysteries of being affianced and whether, when it came their turn, they would be inclined to go with boys or shrewdly stick with girls.

Smiling out at the passing terrain, at the glowing evening street lights, he consciously docked the memory.

His perfect family vacation had begun.

~*~

Sean wanted him to wait before he spoke with the city council. Sean wasn’t saying why, except that he wanted to talk to him first.

“Is it about the speech?” he asked, one finger in his ear in an attempt to hear around the din of the park’s parking lot. “Or you not wanting to hang around afterwards?”

He was standing at the front of the Rover while Kay lined Deena and company up at the back, carefully handing them item after item from the trunk. 

He had been surprised when Davey’s ringtone had sounded on his phone, until he remembered that Sean hadn’t taken his phone when he left the hotel.

“It’s not really about any of that,” Sean said slowly, his deep voice coming in clear tones. “More like—” Sean's voice faded slowly. 

There was a loaded silence, while he waited to see whether Sean would say what was obviously on his mind.

“I hate that you have to put up with my bad behavior,” Sean said suddenly. “And then have to handle my business on top of it. I’m not that guy.”

“No, you’re not,” he confirmed for him. “Neither am I the type of person who puts up with something like that.” He paused. “We both know that, right?”

The silence returned with Sean letting out a breath he could hear down the line. He gave it a few moments.

“Sweetheart,” Sean finally said, his voice no more than a low rumble. “I love you more than I can ever tell you. And…thank you.”

“You can thank me later,” he told him quietly.

“I will.”

The words transported him, and he found himself licking his bottom lip. But he told himself to steady on. They had a long way to go before they’d see the inside of his hotel suite. 

He told Sean he’d see him later and they disconnected.

At the back of the Rover, they sorted the girls into pairs, giving each a warmer-box, which they were to pull along, set squarely on a sled for each team.

Kay grasped up the thick rope of a rather hardcore-looking adult wooden sled. He grabbed a couple of rubber snow tubes under his arm, picked up two warmer boxes, and they headed into the park.


	5. Chapter 5

Kay had told him that the older folk couldn’t be dragged out on this night for any reason, thus explaining why Anne and Wil, and even Barbara and Lewis, were nowhere in sight. He soon underwood why.

The number of families out for the night was astonishing. They had entered the park through a wide walkway entrance, following crowds of yelling children, screaming teenagers, and frantic camera-toting parents calling out to them, desperate to keep up. And nearly everyone was hauling winter toys of every shape and color imaginable. The park itself was lit up, lights strung on trees and along its pathways, the latter which dissected the park at all angles, creating snow fields where snowball fights and snowmen building competitions were already taking place.

And in the center of the park, like a lighted fairground scene, was a big, round, and very pretty gazebo decorated like a Christmas candle. It was filled with plastic chairs, in the midst of which stood a podium. At which, he presumed, Sean would later give his speech.

The real attraction of the night, however, he instantly sighted, was a giant mountain slope located at the far end of the park called Bradford Hill. His jaw dropped upon seeing its evil-looking precipice, from which screaming townspeople were clinging to each other and hurtling off in sleds.

He must have stopped in shock because Deena and friends, frog-ears flapping, came chugging past him, their plastic sleds holding warmer boxes of hot chocolates and baked goodies from Allison flying behind them. The girls didn’t so much as stop to acknowledge his surprise, excitement propelling their slender legs through the snow.

“We have to get to the top of the hill!” they cried as they passed. “We have to get sledding!”

Panting and dragging her sled alongside him, Kay gasped for them to please go for it.

He turned to look at Kay, huffing to a stop beside him. 

“Would you like me to take that for a minute?” he asked her.

Gasping, she shook her head. “You’re already loaded down. And why aren’t you breathing hard?”

“I’m okay as long as we’re on level ground. Making it up that hill is what’s going to slay me.”

He looked again at the slope. “Have you ever been down that thing?”

Kay managed to laugh. “Of course. You should get Sean to take you. He and Davey and demons on that thing.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised at how appealing that sounded. He just might do that.

—

The climb up did indeed all but slay him. Bent forward, clutching his hip, he breathed deeply and tried to catch his breath.

Next to him, rope gripped in the hand on her own hip, Kay was panting just as bad. “I’m about to eat this snow,” she growled.

He was laughing, but could barely manage it.

Kay observed his identical condition. “Not as fun as climbing up to Sean’s room, huh?”

“Not even a little bit,” he gasped, shaking his head. And at least up there, there had been the promise of very lovely sex. 

He caught his breath enough to look around him. 

The hilltop was reached via a wide wooden staircase set into the hill itself, and it was crawling with people excitedly, and he noted quite easily traipsing up and down its steps. There were some excited whispers and pointing at him, but no one, thankfully, spoke to him, likely pitying his state.

The slope top was just as crowded as the park but was its own little landscape. Bright lights illuminated a few rustic acres of wooden picnic tables and benches, and a whole lot of glowing space heaters. There was an much noise up here as down in the park itself.

Plastic sleds, snowman building kids, and snowball throwing teenagers were everywhere. And marking the entire perimeter was a thick wooden fence, against which sledders rested and secured their boots and clothing before doing the downhill plunge.

Squinting, he saw that the picnic table towards which Deena and her friends had hurried, crossing frantically behind the sled staging area, was occupied by Sean’s friends from the night at the bar. The sight delighted him since he hadn’t expected to see them again any time soon. The friends at the table waved at him and Kay.

They slogged over.

The little girls, blessed with the resuscitative powers of childhood, had chirped their hellos, hurriedly unloaded and plucked up their sleds, and without another word quickly scattered into the snowy fields. They took hugs all around, and Erica, the friend who had asked what he and Sean loved about each other, and had more than likely seen too much that night, stood him at arm’s length and slowly shook her head, a fascinated look on her face.

“You are fucking beautiful.”

“Totally inappropriate, honey,” her husband, Oren, said, coming around give him a quick, manly hug.

Oren pulled back and grinned at him. “How’re you liking the cold?”

“Jesus,” he replied. Oren laughed in commiseration and told him to just make sure he kept his jacket zipped and his beanie on.

While they set up the warmer-boxes, Judy, the woman who had gone to high school with Sean and Davey and who’d been terrorized by their dilapidated Volkswagen Bug, asked where either of them were.

“AWOL,” Kay said shortly.

The table groaned with dread.

“Yeah,” Kay said blandly. “We sighted them stalking Holden this morning. Davey’s idea, no doubt. You should have seen the state of the Wrangler. Someone out there has farmland they don’t want to see the condition of.”

He immediately wanted to ask Kay, or any of them, whether it was safe that both men had also looked so…tussled. But seeing as nobody at the table was saying anything along those lines, he kept his worry to himself, not wanting to seem like a city kid.

“Hey, Holden!”

He around up at the sudden cry to see a gaggle of teenagers, a mix of girls and boys, chasing each other around in wide circles near their picnic table, throwing snowballs and screaming at the tops of their lungs.

One of the girls, running in a steady and exhausting to watch figure-eight, called out to him again.

“Is Sean here?” she asked, screaming with delight as her friends’ snowballs kept missing her.

“Um…” he said, giving Kay a mildly surprised look. But most everyone at the table was already digging in Allison’s warmer-boxes and not paying attention to them.

He turned back to her. “Not yet,” he called back.

“Okay,” she said. “Then I’ll be back! ‘Cause I want to be the first to get a picture of you guys kissing for my Facebook page!” 

Then she ran head-first into a team of ambushers, screaming as the others piled on her and yelled at her that she was dead.

“Okay,” he said mostly to himself as she was long gone from the conversation.

He glanced at Oren in amusement. “Guess I’d better do my hair, then, huh?”

“I guess you’d better,” he replied.

Just then, his phone chimed with his ringtone for Allison. Knowing it meant the city council members were ready to meet with him, he excused himself and answered it, then headed back down to the gazebo.

~*~

Davey came with him into the house as he dropped him off to shower before they headed for Mell Park.

Giving him a once over as they entered, Davey said, “You look good. Kinda okay.”

“I feel okay,” he said, for some reason looking around the foyer and seeing the night he had brought Holden over for dinner with his parents. Remembering pain and confusion. 

Now he could hardly believe that he could almost smile at the memory.

Davey closed the door behind them. “Think you’re ready to see him?”

He took a breath. “Yeah. I think so.”

“I think so too.”

He threw Davey a cautious look. “What is this, the new mature you?”

“Hey, I’m emotional over this shit, so don’t fuck with me right now.”

He chuckled.

The house was empty so they walked through it until they found both sets of parents on the deck, sitting out there like old times. He hugged Barbara and shook Lewis’s hand, while Davey made a show of trying to fit himself on Barbara’s lap. 

Poor Barbara huffed and swatted at him while he hugged his own dad. His mother, he waited to go over and give a kiss.

She and he hadn’t talked since she had thrown him out of her house Monday morning, and forced him to face his anger toward Holden. And on this side of sobriety, he knew it was only one of the countless things his parents had done right by him throughout his life.

While most pro athletes could tell stories of how they had been raised to get away with pretty much anything in the house, his had been the opposite experience growing up. Though his parents had definitely gone above and beyond in providing for him as a bone fide NFL prospect, he hadn’t been raised as a golden child. His mother laid down the law and his father gladly enforced it. 

It had also had the side effect of instilling in him a healthy respect for her slow to build wrath. And since it sometimes took her days to come down, he fully expected that she might still be a little impatient with him.

But she had also always been full of quiet cuddles, so he gratefully bent when she pulled his head down for a kiss, scrubbing the hair at his temple like she would when he’d been a little boy.

“Back to loving your son, Annie?” his dad teased.

“Oh, Wil,” she chided, a big smile on her face.

A really big one, like the world had finally righted itself. 

He was a little intrigued by her flushed, barely contained contentment, which he got the feeling wasn’t all coming from having raked him over hot coals.

Lewis raised a finger to get Davey’s attention, and Davey went over and sat on the arm of his sofa.

Lewis leaned a little closer to Davey. “You boys sorted your, er…”

“Yeah,” Davey said, in a long, drawn out voice.

And that closed the matter for Lewis, who Lewis sat back with a satisfied look.

Without needing to ask, he instantly knew what was taking place. Lewis had been arbitrating for them since they were pups, and judging from the look in Davey’s eyes, Davey had probably expressed his frustrations about his coming out to Lewis, and Lewis had probably told him to do an about face and talk to the correct listener.

Glancing at Lewis with a chastened look, he was glad when Lewis waved it aside. He nodded his thanks.

“Sean,” Lewis then said expansively, stretching his arm over the back of the sofa just like Davey always did, no matter whose house it was. Davey himself had started reaching for his father’s glass of warm cider. From the disappointed look that crossed his face, he was guessing it wasn’t Anne’s secret stash. 

“Met your fiancé at brunch this morning,” Lewis said.

“You did?” he asked, looking in surprise at his mom. He hadn’t known they’d planned a breakfast.

“Oh, yes, yes,” Lewis said deeply. “Very interesting young man.”

“And so handsome,” Barbara said, speaking very pointedly. Apparently to a point in Holden’s favor that shouldn’t be overlooked. “It’s very rare, you know, nowadays to find good-looking young men who aren’t complete bimbos.”

“Ouch, ma,” Davey drawled from the sofa. Wil chuckled.

“You’re dead right, Barbara,” he told her, fighting a smile. “And I’d know, believe me.”

Then, rubbing the back of his neck, he hesitantly asked, “Uh…so… did you have a good time with him, mom?”

“We did, dear,” she said gently. And per her reserved nature, that was all. “Michelle was there, too.”

Dying to know the details, he nevertheless said nothing more. But he realized it attested for Holden’s lovely smile that morning. Their breakfast must have gone very well.

He kept looking at her, scratching the back of his neck patiently, but all she did was smile just as patiently back at him.

“You two go on to Mell Park,” she said. “I’m sure they’re all waiting for you. Allison said you’re giving a speech with the city council?”

“Yea…h.”

“Well, then, we’ll see everyone later.”

“And what’s happening later?” Davey asked, refilling Lewis’s glass, which he had emptied. “‘Cause you old timers are acting suspicious.”

“Old timers,” Anne scoffed. “Just because we’re not out wrecking farmland.”

Davey splorfed, while he grinned and told her he had no idea what she was talking about. 

They stood up, kissed their folks, and he hurried upstairs, buoyant on his amazing life, while Davey hurried home to grab his own shower.

~*~

Sean and Davey were late for the evening. So…he really couldn’t be blamed for what happened with Brownie. Or with the teenagers.

It turned out that the city council was asking for a little more than just a speech from Sean on being a true Johnstoner, which he suspected Sean had suspected. They also wanted Sean to commit to becoming an official sponsor of the night through his foundation. 

He was sure Sean would have no problem with it, and he certainly knew there was room in the foundation’s mission for it, but he figured he would wait to add one more politically themed issue to Sean’s plate only while talking face to face with him. Or better yet, while touching him. 

So he had come back from the meeting very ready to see Sean. But Sean was no where to be seen. 

At their table deep, half the food was gone. The screaming teenagers were regularly coming around to check in on Sean, which wasn’t doing much to help him take his mind off the fact that even under the bright stadium lights, he was colder than an icicle. That he wanted Sean to come warm him to distraction.

And as if responding to his silent pleas for warmth, Brownie came shambling our of the frozen hilltop, through the deep snow toward him.

The dog came until it came to a stop next to him, and then sat. And then it simply stared at him as if waiting for him to do something, its huge, shaggy milk chocolate head tilted to one side.

There had been no owner in sight, though people walking by had ruffled its fur with familiarity.

Bewildered, he had fluffed its warm fur and got what sounded hilariously like a loud motorized purr. He laughed helplessly, considering that it looked like an enormous stuffed toy to begin with.

Catching Kay’s eye across the table, he had pointed questioningly at it.

“Say hello to Brownie,” she said. “The biggest loveball on the planet. He has a way of knowing when you’re in need of love.” And then gave him a giant wink.

“Who does he belong to?” he asked. 

“Carol. She’s around here somewhere. Go on and pet him.”

And so he did. In response, Brownie moved closer and plopped its enormous his head in his lap, then went perfectly still, staring up at him with big brown eyes, waiting for him to do what they both knew was right.

Laughing, he dropped a kiss into its fur and Brownie had pushed its head into his stomach, seeming to snuggle him back. And after that it had been a hopeless struggle against falling in love.

Carol, Brownie’s owner, then showed up. She introduced herself, self-identifying as a lesbian, and telling him that Allison, who still wasn’t at the park, had asked her if she could answer any questions he might have about the town council.

Gratefully, he had taken her up on her offer, talking to her about the council’s track record on Sean. But he had had to do so with Brownie snuggling up against him, causing warm explosions of love that distracted him at unexpected moments in their conversation. 

Glancing apologetically at Carol who was seated on the wooden perimeter fence next to their table, smoking vapor cigarettes, he had felt a little sheepish that her dog was cheating on her in her presence. But she had only smiled and told him that it was Brownie’s nature.

And since then it had been a free for all, him and Brownie getting freely aquatinted and developing a system to show their love and understanding of each other. Brownie even mewled in understanding when he secretly told him that he missed Sean.

“Sean is going to send that dog to the moon,” he heard Kay murmur.

“Noo kidding,” Michelle intoned, having recently joined them.

Ignoring the chuckling around him, including Carol’s, he snuggled warmly with his newfound love, sure that Sean would understand.

~*~

The scene outside Mell Park was his teenage years all over again. Even if the drop in temperature would normally have kept people averse to too-cold weather away, the foot-plus fall of snow overnight had made it irresistible for Johnstoners not to come out and toss some snowballs. And though it was relatively late, people were still flocking toward the entrance. Mostly teenagers, at this point, who were excitedly booking it for Bradford Hill. 

He hadn’t been in town on this night in a long time and he had almost forgotten how crazy it could get. Not to mention, he thought, shoving his hands deeper into his vest pockets, how intensely sexy a cold winter’s evening could be.

In their teenage years, before the wooden staircase and the stadium lights and the family-friendly picnic tables, the Hill had been big a make-out spot for teenagers. You scared the shit out of each other going over that near-precipice, then you had an excuse to do something more intimate to make up for it. 

Some, including himself, however, had spent the outing devising more and more innovative ways of going downhill. And Davey had always been right there beside him when he had constantly voiced his preference for taking the slope to taking some girl. Now, he saw that it really was a wonder of acceptance and friendship that Davey had never questioned his reasoning.

They strode through the park at a steady pace, by and large having to ignore the screams and shouts at the sight of him. He didn’t want to slow down and get mobbed. Whoever wanted would get their chance to meet him later, after he gave his speech. Right now he just wanted badly to see Holden.

While in the shower he had had some space to think, post what he and Davey had discussed and in light of everything that had happened since his and Holden’s bad fight on Monday morning. He had been able to see exactly where he had fucked up, where he had been fucking up since maybe last summer when exposure to Holden’s family had turned him into an insecure fool. 

At that time and in utter confusion, he had witnessed Holden go head-to-head with self-doubt and he had been nearly useless in his own fear of rejection. But even having a tantrum, Holden could only sustain it for so long until whatever insecurity he was suffering from passed, as Holden had done last summer. 

He, on the other hand, held onto all his insecurities. And worse, he had used it as a replacement for trust in their relationship. As cornerstone. There was where he could change things. He knew now that even intentionally, Holden could never truly push him out into the cold. After all they had been through in the past two weeks, he could trust now that Holden had been completely right in his mother’s kitchen. Their love for each other superseded everything else, including their own egos.

And for his own record, through all of this he had developed a healthy respect for Holden’s ability to put aside his own concerns, buckle down and just take care of things. It was why, if he had had the humility to remind himself, he had proposed to him immediately after the fight with the FRC.

As they passed the gazebo, he briefly and resignedly glanced at it. That was going to have to happen no matter how much he was dreading it. And there again, he had Holden.

Meantime they had picked up an incipient tail of little kids and teenagers, who as they went along were calling out football trivia questions to him, which had both him and Davey cracking up.

At last they reached the wooden stairs. Taking the steps two at a time, they helped haul toddlers and winter toys, and even some adventurous teenagers, overhead as needed. Much entertainment ensued. 

And as they dispersed at the top, their fellow travelers, cheering wildly and throwing up touchdown signals, high-fived and patted them on the shoulder.

“Guys!” one of the dads called, ushering forward a brood of kids. “Come see our picnic area later, will ya?”

Others immediately extended similar offers, and soon he was committed to seeing most of the families on the hilltop if he heeded their invitations. 

Still stuck at the top of the staircase, he dropped kisses on the proffered cheeks of toddlers, plenty of teen girls, and one or two teenage boys, while Davey searched for their party. He pointed across the sledding area when he saw them.

He looked over and immediately saw Holden bent over by perimeter fence, fluffing the ears of a very big dog that was clearly in love with him. And who could blame the poor thing. 

Holden looked like walking devastation. 

Even from this distance, with the cold wind in his face, his heart slipped down and puddled somewhere around his groin. 

He was being completely fucked with by this weather. It had to be the weather making Holden look so adorable. 

Holden had a beanie on which was covering his hair, but his bright blue astronaut-signaling winter jacket had been replaced by a muted darker one, and for an awful moment he thought Holden was wearing the same black velvet jeans that had turned him into a drooling maniac at the bar.

But as they passed behind the sledding lanes and got closer, thankfully, he saw that his mind was only playing cruel tricks on him. They were, however, a pair of grey snow pants he clearly needed to get acquainted with.

Davey flicked his shoulder as he departed for where Michelle sat. “Good luck to you, man.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, mentally already on the other side, taking the place of that dog.

—

Carol, whose father owned the oldest hardware store in town, was seated on the fence next to Holden and alerted Holden as he approached.

Holden looked up, then proceeded to stare at him as if seeing an apparition. Holden obviously hadn’t expected them to show up after all.

As they neared, the table burst into a chorus of clever greetings and remarks, and he waved away their lame guesses as to where he and Davey had been that day.

“Wrong, wrong,” he told them as he passed the table and Davey circled it for Michelle. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but all wrong.”

At last he reached Holden, conveniently backed up against the fence and now staring with excitement at him. 

His eyes glued to Holden, he wondered why he had let so many things come between him and this. 

Placing his hands on either side of Holden on the fence, and his legs braced on either side of him, he put himself as close as the laws of physics would allow, and simply stared into expectant blue eyes.

Holden had an air of hesitancy about him, as if he wanted to say something, maybe about that afternoon. But he was going to get what he had to say out first. 

He took a slow, deep breath and—

“Holden, I—”

He shifted his legs, and— or he was attempting to…

He looked down to see why his stance, not to mention his apology, was being interrupted, and saw that his stance was causing the dog—its name was Brownie—to whine and shuffle backward.

With the dog shifted, he was able to move his leg into a more conducive position, his lower half trapping Holden even harder against the fence and keeping him still… and allowing him to give into the temptation of dropping a tiny kiss hello to Holden’s pale, chapped lips…

But Holden was grabbing his shirt sleeve instead and attempting, inexplicably, to reach down for the dog.

Pulling back in confusion, he looked down around their legs to see why Holden was doing that, and thought he heard Kay murmur, “Prepare for launch,” followed by a smattering of laughter. 

Not quite sure what was happening, he started to recommend that Holden let go of the dog for an instant—its owner was right there so he was sure it was okay—but by then Holden had managed to calm the agitated dog.

And so Brownie was now sitting squarely, and rather ballsily, on his foot.

It was so glued to their legs that it might as well be a pair of shaggy pants Holden was wearing.

What the fuck—

“Hey, Sean,” Carol said in a knowing tone. “How’s tricks?”

“She’s all right,” he replied, glancing at her and continuing their running joke. “How’s your dad?”

“Gettin’ old.”

He pulled his mouth in a quick smile, then glanced at her dog, and gave her a pointed look. “Carol, you’re killing me here.”

Unperturbed, and sipping her soda, Carol said, “Come here, Brownie.”

Brownie didn’t move. 

The laughter at the table got a little more obvious, which he didn’t understand.

Carol shrugged, inhaled from her vapor cigarette with its glowing blue tip, and attempted nothing further. 

Holden began giving him apologetic looks, which he also didn’t get.

Then Holden said, somewhat seductively, “It’s okay, big guy.” 

To the _dog._

He turned a slow look on the dog. 

Carol spat up her soda. As did the table.

What on earth was happening?

“Is that dog cock blocking you, Sean?” Davey called, sending them all into fits of hysteria.

It had been the exact thought on his mind, and from where he was standing, not all that funny.

Holden bent over, for which he had to pull back even more and give him room, and was kissing Brownie’s head.

“Thank you, boy,” Holden whispered to it, then kissed it three times in a row. 

Then Holden straightened, and he had to pull back in complete disbelief as Holden took Brownie by the collar, then glanced up expectantly at him, so that he had to back up even farther, and walked the dog to Carol. Brownie went without protest. 

Brownie sat at Carol’s knee, and remained there staring forlornly at Holden.

Holden came back to him, resuming the position he had left, but was returning the dog’s look equally sadly, looking like he had had his heart stolen.

Staring from Holden to the dog, he was having to ignore Carol not quietly laughing herself to tears, hacking and coughing up soda and wiping liquid from her nose. 

His friends were sighing and catching their breaths at the table.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Had Holden replaced him with a dog?

Holden flicked him a guilty look. “He’s such a good boy.”

Brownie whined and thumped his tail.

The sniggering and snorting burst out all over again.

Feeling idiotic, he nonetheless tightened his grip around Holden. Brownie’s whining, he could have sworn, intensified. He narrowed his eyes. Was that dog kidding him? What the hell did it want?

Carol let out a deeply amused chortle, then slid off the fence. She raised a hand. “See you people later.”

He sighed as well. “Say hi to your dad for me, will you?”

That cracked her up. As it should. He and Davey had made the man age prematurely, going into his hardware store as young teens for most of their highly questionable and probably illegal “projects.” He remembered seeing Carol, who was a couple years younger than them, peeking around the back room door in pigtails, looking intrigued.

“Will do,” she said, and called for Brownie who reluctantly stood up, stared back at Holden for one last goodbye, and then followed her away.

Holden was smiling sadly after the dog, as if this really was goodbye.

Then, just as he was wondering if he was going to have to talk to Holden about that, Holden brought his gaze back and met his eyes with the sexiest, most fuckable smile of all time. 

He instantly took all of it back, flushing with color as he subtly…perceived that Holden hadn’t replaced him with anything.

— 

“I saw what that dog was trying to do,” he whispered, feeling he had to at least lay claim to his stake.

Holden’s smile widened. Then, elbows resting on the railing behind him, Holden lifted his hand and slowly traced over the spot where his nipple was under layers of clothing. It electrified him right down to his knees. 

And each time Holden breathed under the lights in the cold night air, a white mist of condensation escaped his mouth, magnetizing his eyes. And he couldn’t stop looking at how the color in Holden’s was getting darker by the moment.

Presuming no one was paying attention to them, he supposed, Holden dropped his hand and slipped it beneath his winter vest, then underneath his fleece shirt, the two layers of jerseys, then his T-shirt, and touched his bare skin. Everything south his chest went tight.

He stared at Holden’s downturned face, wondering what Holden was trying to make happen. He wanted to tell him he was sorry for so many things, right up till this afternoon and him stiffing him for a kiss.

Instead the fingers underneath his clothing fanned and swept down his pelvic bone, skimming the trail of hair leading into his jeans, and he held still, trying to think while blood left his brain, going to his groin like spilt warm oil.

“Holden,” he whispered, close to his ear. “What’re you doing?”

“You were missed,” Holden replied softly, leaving the hot tips of his fingers against the skin that was beginning to burn. “And I was cold.”

He tightened his arms on the fence behind him, bringing their bodies even closer. Holden relaxed against the fence, his body going slack to welcome his even more, and it made him want to unzip and start rubbing himself against him.

Instead he took a breath, then whispered again at his ear, “I’m sorry about the bruises.” Then he paused, listening to the secret truth between them. “But I get why you like it,” he said quietly. “And…I promise…I’ll be on that.”

Holden turned a discrete, surprised look at him, and he held his eyes, not blinking, not looking away. Holden looked…impressed. Curbing a smile to himself, he kissed Holden, softly on his cold lips, while Holden reached for him, pulling him a little closer by his vest. 

Their mouths closed around each other’s, licking and tasting, so that they could both taste the pleasure of understanding each other, and savor the much missed one of simply being together. 

“Um…guys…”

It was Kay, speaking quietly from the table. Neither of them could respond to her.

“Oh, wait a minute.” It was Erica, speaking slowly, a note of understanding in her tone. “They were having a fight that night at the bar, weren’t they?”

Someone gave her a response, prompting murmured conversation around the table.

He didn’t care to discern. Holden had started pushing succulent kisses along the plane of his mouth and he was going weak everywhere. Gently pushing into the fist clutching his vest, simply because he couldn’t push into the part he wanted to, without giving his friends too vulgar a display, he contended himself with the small moans that were coming from Holden. 

“You really couldn’t even tell,” Erica continued in wonderment.

“I know, but you can now,” Judy, bright and pragmatic all the way from junior high, said. “So…I’m gonna say it, because it’s, you know, right here in front of me. But I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen Sean _making out_ with a guy.”

“Holden kissed him at the bar,” Kay reminded them.

“Not like that,” Judy assured her.

“So what’s it feel like, Oren?” Erica asked interestedly.

“Uh…” Oren said loudly, confusion in his voice. “I wouldn’t know.”

The table exploded in laughter while Erica backtracked, explaining that she meant that he had gone to school with Sean and Davey, so what was it like seeing Sean like this now.

“I’m…not really of an _opinion_ as to what’s taking place over there,” Oren hedged, causing even more laughter, and even he had to break off returning Holden’s delicious kisses. 

He started laughing helplessly at the ridiculous nature of the conversation. He felt Holden’s smile against the side of his face. 

“How’s it feel in front of your friends and family?” Holden asked quietly.

He smiled himself, shaking his head at the silliness. “It feels good,” he said. “Real.”

Holden stroked his arm, then kissed his temple, and brushed his lips through his beard. “Real,” he said with a pensive note. “I like that word.”

And suddenly, something began occurring to him…

“Hey, guys?” It was Kay again. “About what I was trying to say before. You two might want to—“

Suddenly, he was cringing as the lights of a billion LED camera flashes started going off simultaneously very near their faces. 

Raising a hand to block his eyes, he whispered, “What the fuck?” and turned around to see…a huge crowd gathered a few feet from them, tapping away at their camera apps, each shot like a crack of lightning against the black night.

He blinked in confusion. What the fuck?

“…get a room,” Kay finished languidly, then sipped from her small box of chocolate milk. “Probably shoulda seen that coming.”

Blinking against the onslaught, he tried seeing around the white spots, presuming it was mostly teenagers he was about to shoo away. When his sight cleared a bit, he was surprised to see fully half of the crowd made up of adults.

A quick glance at Holden showed that Holden had a calm, accepting smile on his face, otherwise not reacting in one way or another. Holden didn’t at all seem surprised that they had a full-on audience. 

And when he glanced at their table, he saw that Davey was the same way, talking at the other end by the space heaters and not paying any attention to anything happing over here. 

Then he remembered Davey telling him that people in town had been tracking them or whatever. He would have thought though that they would have all had their fill seeing them together at the bonfire. 

And even so, he couldn’t understand why they were being so…touristy about it.

“Do it again!” one of the teenagers yelled.

“So you can put it on YouTube?” he called back, and heard Holden laugh under his breath.

“Instagram, grampa!” one of them yelled back. “Not YouTube!” making the crowd erupt in laughter.

“Whatever,” he said, laughing, admittedly enjoying the situation more than he would have imagined. “And do you mind? I’m working here.”

That got him a cascade of catcalls and wolfish whistles, and a congratulatory pat on his chest from Holden. 

“Hey, Holden!” the same teenager called.

“Yeah?” Holden replied, smiling wider. “Did you get it first?”

“Hell, yeah!”

Her friends whooped and high-fived each other like they had just won a contest. He could only shake his head. Everything to teenagers was cause to celebrate. Then the crowd began shouting instructions on poses for them to take, like a flock of paparazzi.

He pulled completely away from Holden and spread his hands, like were they kidding him. They laughed while Holden indicated that the vocal girl come over. 

The teenage girl and her friends sped right up, beaming gleefully at him, and before he knew it he was being split from Holden, the teens squeezing in and showing Holden images on their phones, and closing him out of the circle.

He couldn’t believe it. First a dog, now this.

—

Moving back to give the crowd some space, something new began to coalesce in his mind.

He suddenly began to understand why ever since his return, he had been having strange moments as if he past had been a dream. 

Why memories of practicing on the high school football team had felt like someone else’s. Why he had been so hesitant or even unable to kiss Holden that morning outside of Brett’s. Why standing in that field with Davey earlier on had felt like he wasn’t at last dreaming. And why, finally, he had just told Holden that kissing him in front of his friends and family felt real.

He tried to give camera-friendly smiles at the flashes still going, while he thought of the facts about his life.

He was out as a gay man in LA and in the media, and especially to the sports press. In the Hollywood Hills, they had seen him have romantic dinners with a man. And on the beaches in Malibu, they knew him to be regularly struggling trying to get that same man into the surf.

But in his hometown he was still Sean who had fooled around with cheerleaders. Sean who would kiss you and let you kiss him back, but whom you could never pin down to go any further. 

In Johnston, they had never seen him out as a gay man. 

And now he watched his townsfolk reacting, not just to Holden as a nice person as they had done throughout Holden’s stay, but to them as a couple. He could now see how astonishing it must appear to them.

And just like that, he saw exactly how he could make things right. 

For him and for Holden, and for the benefit of his hometown.

Going back to Holden, who had been pulled forward from the wooden fence, he leaned over the heads of the teenagers and asked, “How much time before I gotta go give this speech?”

One of the boys, who’d been staring a hole into the side of Holden’s head, managed to drag his eyes away long enough to stare blankly at him.

“Y-you’re giving a speech?” the boy said.

“Yeah,” he said, giving the boy a feigned frown. “You too?”

The boy laughed in breathless little gasps, which was funny as hell. He kept a straight face as the boy shook his head, then went back to staring at Holden. Holden threw a patient look at him, aware that he was messing with the boy. 

“You have time,” Holden told him. “Why?”

“Come with me, sweetheart.”

Amidst groans that would put his niece and her friends to shame, he extracted them both from the mob.

“Where’re we going?” Holden asked, as he steered them away.

“For a walk.”

He gave the table wave, most of them having stopping bothering with them when the crowd appeared, then took the time to stop and take Holden’s hand. 

Then he started them in the opposite direction from the precipice, toward the acres of picnic area.

“Did you see that kid?” he remarked, glancing at Holden’s cute smile, noting also that his hair was starting to sneak out from under the beanie. “Staring at you like that?”

“Yeah, it was adorable.”

“Adorable was not what that kid had in mind.”

Holden laughed. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you never had the hots for an adult when you were his age.”

“I wouldn’t have the balls.”

“Well, true,” Holden said. “We all know you were a late bloomer.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking into the distance at their destination. “I’m about to fix that.”


	6. Chapter 6

Exactly as he had prayed and had been been oh-so-good for in the fall, Sean was finally present and there with him.

Not like on the night of the bonfire when Sean had been avoiding him and people stayed more or less to the periphery, perhaps sensing that things were not creamy smooth between them, tonight all of Johnston was seeing that they were very much together, and totally in love.

They had entered the picnic area proper, a large area set back from the sledding lanes and filled with families. Upon arriving, Sean squeezed his hand and seemed to straighten up a little taller. And he let out a breath, not realizing he had been holding it.

It felt like he had finally come home.

The night was inky black and freezing cold. But Sean was generating enough heat beside him to power several personal massagers. That was apart from the glow coming off his face, making him seem to shine, reminding him of how Sean had looked after he had agreed to commit to their relationship.

They first headed to tables where Sean was friends with the occupants, but who would be so busy corralling snow-tossing toddlers that they wouldn’t catch that he was there.

But then they would turn around and see them and exclaim at the top of their lungs, and hugs and handshakes would be exchanged, after which Sean would turn to him with the most gorgeous smile in the world and say, “This is my guy.”

Their reactions were almost always identical, a beat in which it seemed time would stand still as they stared in open curiosity at him, then there would be more exclaiming and even bigger hugs.

Some of them he had coincidentally previously met, most he hadn’t, but all of them knew his name.

For him it was a feeling similar to when Sean had introduced him to his teammates during training camp last August, except that Sean was different in Johnston, as he had noticed that night at the bar. Completely relaxed, yet charged with a dormant kind of energy.

For Sean’s friends, he thought it was a feeling similar to relief. In their exuberance it seemed like they wanted to shake not only Sean’s hand but Sean, period. It was the relief, he noted, of not longer having to hold your thoughts.

They moved on from there, with Sean seemingly keeping an eye out for someone in particular, and encountered more teenagers who asked to take pictures with them, dragging both their heads down and smothering them with kisses when the flashes went off.

It took sometime extricating themselves from those particular moments.

Farther in, they ran into some guys talking in a group near their families, whom Sean introduced as co-workers of Davey’s—whom he was shocked to his back teeth to discover was an engineer for John Deere.

One of the men was giving Sean the identical though muted version of the look the teenage boy had given him back at their table. Yet Sean, amusingly, did not notice. 

But the other men, he noticed, were staring at him and not so much at Sean, as if he were some rare bird they had heard about but had never laid eyes on.

He wondered at that, until he saw how alive they came when Sean mentioned he’d be up for catching up on some pool later in the week. It brought home to him again the truism that unless they knew one personally, certain types of straight men really did think of gay men as a different breed.

They continued on their stroll of the grounds. Sean pointed out to him that on this side of the hill, the incline sloped off at practically ground level, but that no one ever cared to just walk up the hill this way. It made him want to cry foul, wishing someone had told _him_ this was an option. Sean assured him no one would have let him unless he was coming up in a wheelchair.

They ran into a contingent of women with their kids, in the throes of dressing a beautiful eighteenth century steampunk snowlady.

While he admired the snowlady, the mothers wanted to know whether the rumors were true that they would be doing “something for the wedding” right there in Johnston. 

Sean turned a grin on him. “Are we, honey?” he asked obediently, and garnered sighs of approval from the women.

He narrowed his eyes at Sean. “He’s not this corporative about it,” he told the women, to which they laughed knowingly.

The mothers sent them along their way with a stack of plastic-wrapped oatmeal raisin cookies, which Sean insisted on carrying. As soon as Sean carefully took the stack from him he saw that the women had instantly forgot their judgment of him as a wedding-responsibilities avoider-type.

After that, farther in, they ran into older gay couple who hugged them so tightly it made Sean teary. Sean introduced them as Deena’s second grade teacher, Mr. Taylor, and his partner, Lawrence. He told them it was a pleasure to meet them.

They also encountered a father with a brood of kids, who weren’t all his, thank goodness, who apparently had asked Sean to stop by his picnic table. They took a ton of pictures with endlessly fact-observing children, who tirelessly transferred snow from their mittens to his and Sean’s hats and jaws and backs, wanting to know anything their minds could formulate to ask.

They lost their oatmeal raisin cookies there, but left with much more than that. Including the chocolate milk, all of his which Sean took and drank.

Then there was a sudden, “Oh my God no, _nooo!_ ”

It was followed by a, “Yes! Come _on!_ ”

Coming along the sides of the picnic tables some yards ahead of them was Josh, the young man who worked on Main in the pizza parlor, and who had flagged him down to tell him that they had missed him at Bootleggers. Josh was dragging the guy he knew to be his boyfriend, Luke, the tall African American boy who wanted to meet Sean but was too shy, and who currently had his thick snow boots planted firmly in the snow.

“Nooo,” Luke continued to moan, doing his best to turn and leave. Josh, holding onto his hand with both of his, wasn’t letting him.

“Luke is a _huge_ Chargers fan,” he whispered to Sean, who was wordlessly watching the scene.

“With an even bigger crush on you,” he added. To which Sean snorted softly. “His boyfriend’s name is Josh.”

Sean slowed as they reached the young men, giving Luke time to acclimate to his presence, he supposed. Sean took his time tossing the empty chocolate milk box into a nearby trash bin before stopping completely. The tugging also stopped.

“Hey guys,” Sean said casually. “Luke, right? And Josh.”

“Yes,” Josh said firmly. “I met you that night at Bootleggers, although I’d be surprised if you remembered me.” Josh then released Luke’s hands and presented him with a flourish. “And this is your most admiring fan in the world, Luke Gossard. Luke, I swear to God, if you don’t say hi to him _right now,_ I’ll leave you to cry all by yourself on this mountain top.”

Luke, his breaths pouring out in a white mist, opened his mouth and tried saying hello not once but three times, and each time his voice cracked and sadly failed him.

He somehow controlled the smile threatening to burst into a full on laugh. He knew the moment was perfectly serious for Luke and he didn’t want to spoil it.

But even after all this time of being in Johnston, it was still strange to see people react to Sean like seeing a deity in the flesh. The way they lost their breath and went wild eyed. He could only fathom reacting that way to great sex, not a player on a sports team. But, to each their own.

Sean stuck his hand out to Luke, who, at least, was able to grasp it. 

“It’s-it’s-it’s—” Luke stammered, then blinked in rapid succession and whispered, “Hi.” He stared down at their hands, as if to make sure it was actually happening, and so missed it when Sean began leaning over. Sean pecked him on the cheek.

Luke’s mouth parted, his eyes suddenly looking brighter, and his expression took on a dazed look. The whole effect made him realize the boy was blushing. 

Josh thanked Sean and dragged his ossified boyfriend away.

He congratulated Sean on having caused irreparable harm to someone’s kid. Sean told him it was all in a day’s work as the team’s quarterback.

And, finally, they ran into Louise. It seemed she was the person Sean been scoping for.

Seeing them approaching, Louise gasped and clutched her face, and he was again amazed that such a stern looking woman was actually such a big teddy bear.

She was also surrounded by a den of kids, who were crawling all over the picnic table, tracking snow as they hunted apparently for muffins. But she immediately left the table and clutched and kissed him, leaving Sean grinning beside him. She then transferred to fussing with his winter wear.

“Sean, what are you doing,” she complained. “You have to tuck in his scarf carefully and make sure his neck is covered. He’ll catch a cold!”

“Maybe I want his neck exposed,” Sean said suggestively. “You know, for easy access.”

Louise hushed him, looking a bit scandalized, which, again, after twenty years of getting teased, he would have thought she would know to ignore it.

She shook her head, held up a finger, making sure he was paying attention, and told him that Sean was a good boy but that he just had a bit of the devil in him.

He darted Sean a quick, secret look, liking the sound of that. But Sean only grinned at him.

“You’ve never looked more handsome or more _responsible_ than with this young man at your side, Sean,” Louise was saying firmly. “Now, you and Davey are no more boys, you hear me? It’s time to start a family.”

“Yeah?” Sean replied. “And how’re we gonna do that, Louise, with two boy parts and no girl?”

She hushed Sean again, like he was back in school and making noise in the lunch line. While he swallowed laughter, Sean gave her an appropriately boyish grin.

Still shaking her head, she finished fixing his clothing, smoothing her hands across his shoulders while beaming at him, and then her eyes suddenly filled with tears.

Sean came forward and put his arm around her and she went, resting her head on his shoulder and sniffing hard. Reaching inside her winter coat for a hanky, she tried to wave it all off and recompose herself. He stepped closer and stroked her shoulder. 

“I’ve become a mess ever since I became a grandmother,” she hoarsely, giving him a small smile. “Crying at the drop of a hat. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be silly,” Sean said. He looked down at her. “Ever since you became a grandmother, we’re getting to see the real you. The Louise we know and love.”

Sean bent and kissed her cheek, then squeezed her shoulder, his eyes still on her.

“I came here to tell you that,” Sean softly told her. “To say thanks for all your care. And, I wanted you to see him.” Sean gently jiggled her shoulder. “I did good, didn’t I?”

“You sure did. Both you boys did.”

She waved him over and he stepped up and got a tight, fragrant hug. Then she released him slowly and wiped her eyes, and told them to get going or she wouldn’t be able to tend to her charges.

Sean kissed her again and they slowly left her to her grandkids.

“How did you come to be so close to her?” he asked, intrigued.

“Feeding me lunch everyday for all my formative years. See all that grey in her hair? She could tell you how and why for each one.”

He turned a suspicious look on Sean. “Is that what I’m in store for?”

“Nah.”

“Then why are you smiling like that?”

“‘Cause I think you’ll look unbelievable with grey hair.”

He pursed his lips. “Nice dodging there.”

_“Sean!”_

Sean turned around in time to catch Deena, who flew out of nowhere right into his arms. She beamed at him, then turned to Sean, and at the steady chug of a locomotive, told him that she had heard all about them visiting their friend and that she was so happy that they were back and that she had missed, missed, missed him. But that now her mommy—that was Allison—was here and sent her to come tell him it was time for him to give his speech.

Sean glanced apologetically at him. “Usually, I just tranq her,” he said under his breath, then he shifted her under his arm and carried her like a football. 

She giggled delightedly. “Chargers at the ten yard line!” she called out, drawing laughter from picnickers around them.

He gave Sean an appraising smile. “You ready?”

Sean sighed heavily. “Sure.”

~*~

Most of the townsfolk came off the hilltop to hear Sean’s speech. They weren’t disappointed with the words of appreciation and heartfelt thanks Sean gave them. Some had even called back in the middle of the speech that they only wished he wouldn’t stay away so long, that L.A. wasn’t the only place with sunshine.

Sean had borne it good-naturedly. 

While descending the hill, he had explained to Sean that the council wanted nothing more than him standing up there officially confirming that he would do something with the town and his foundation. Not leave the town behind and all that. Apparently that had been a concern they said some Johnstoners had.

So like with the initial announcement of his foundation dinner, he had coached Sean on what to say, something brief and official sounding, but vague enough to later work with. And like with all speeches he had to give but had to grumble about it beforehand, Sean flawless delivered his speech to his gathered friends and neighbors.

There was a brief schmoozing period afterward, the handling of which he had triangulated with Allison and Carol. He’d had Sean carrying Deena and him petting Brownie so that it looked like a family night being interrupted for the small political move. 

The council members, getting the drift, soon excused themselves and the crowd had subsequently petered out. Allison had taken Deena back up the hill, and Carol had left as well, leaving Brownie.

So that soon after the speech, he and Sean were left to themselves.

And so they sat together in the gazebo.

Several young teen girls were standing together at the perimeter of the romantically lit gazebo, holding hands and staring at them, occasionally sighing dreamily at them.

The park had more or less wound down for the evening, but there were still people passing by and taking pictures. 

For him, the day, as he had hoped, had been perfect. From waking up to Sean stroking him, to having his mother-in-law to be holding him like her own son, to realizing that he was probably also marrying Davey, to the people atop the hill accepting him into their lives. And even to Brownie showing him so much love. They had weathered a terrible storm and now found themselves sitting together in a beautiful boat, still together, still in love. He could go back to L.A. any day now, sure. But not quiet yet.

Sean was pretending not to see the girls, though he was noticing Brownie just fine. Brownie was in his own world, nuzzling his hand. 

“It’s just…weird for a dog to be that into you,” Sean was saying, still trying to break him and Brownie up.

“But he’s just so adorable. Aww,” he said, seeing the look Brownie passed from him to Sean. “I think he knows you don’t like him.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him, I just see what he’s up to.”

At last, the poor thing, seemed to get the message. Brownie gave him a last “ruff,” nuzzled his kneed, and simply moved on.

He watched the sweet natured dog go, silently saying goodbye to the magic they had shared. He turned to Sean. “Happy now?”

But Sean had other things on his mind. Their gloves were off, his fingers freezing, but partially heating across his knuckles where Sean was stroking and caressing them. He waited for Sean to speak.

Meanwhile outside the gazebo, one of the teenage girls ran off and immediately came back with two more girls. They formed two groups of two now, holding hands and watching them.

He brought his gaze back to Sean. Sean’s head was still down, his eyes on their hands.

“I used to sit here like this with my girlfriend in high school,” Sean said, his voice quiet. “I’d watch Davey and the other guys kiss their girls so intensely and I’d feel so…” Sean raised his eyes to him. They were sharp with the pain of the memory, but he was smiling. “Well, you know.”

He stared at him and waited.

“I never thought I’d been sitting here like this.”

“Like how?” he asked, wanting Sean to say it.

“Like any other teen,” Sean instantly said, so quickly it made him realize he had been waiting a long time to say it. “So horny and so in love, talking to the most beautiful boy in the world.”

He smiled at this man whose romantic soul continually challenged his cynical one. Sean went on staring at him. Looking, he had to admit, smitten out of his mind.

That made two of them.

“You mean the world to me, Holden. And I’m sorry I treated you the way I did.”

“You’re forgiven. And now say you’ve forgiven me for all the things I’ve done to you.”

“What things?” Sean asked, sounding completely serious.

He smiled and slowly shook his head. He was thoroughly fucked.

Heart bumping steadily in his chest, he watched Sean’s broad shoulders remain perfectly still, his chest rising and falling with his quiet breaths.

“And did that teenager want to… do… the other stuff as well?” he prompted.

“Yes, definitely.”

“Right here?”

“Yes.”

“And here I thought you were a PDA-phobe.”

Sean gave him a slight quirk of his mouth. Then Sean looked up, holding his eyes while his thoughts very clearly went to what he had in mind.

“How do you want me sitting?” he asked in a hoarse voice. He was only half joking. He would straddle him right here if he wanted it.

“Just like this,” Sean said, before leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose. Then he kissed the side of it, ever so lightly.

Tiny squeals of delight greeted Sean’s actions from outside the gazebo. Trying not to laugh, he slowly closed his eyes.

Sean slowly unzipped his jacket, eliciting gasps from their audience, and slipped his hand inside, encircling his waist, and he wrapped his arms around Sean’s shoulders as they relaxed against the side of the gazebo. And right there, before the town of Johnston, Iowa, they kissed like lovers.

~*~

**Epilogue**

_Not being passive aggressive about you not communicating or anything,_ Elliot’s text read. _But you and the mister must officially be back together because-- YOU JUST BROKE INSTAGRAM!”_

He quietly laughed himself breathless, standing back while Sean opened the hotel suite door.

The others had refused to let them so much as lift a sled home. They had sent them on their way and Kay and Deena had returned home in Allison’s Altima.

Sean had entered the suite and out of the corner of his eye, while he read Elliot’s text, he saw the Johnston Daily News, then USA Today, then the New York Times—all papers he had requested for his stay—and then the “Do Not Disturb” sign, come flying out of the doorway.

Baffled, he looked up at the ajar door, just in time to see more lights coming on inside the living room.

“What’re you doing?”

Sean came back and stood in the open doorway, the door held open by his extended arm.

His winter vest gone, his navy flannel shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest—a sight that stopped his heart midbeat—his mouth set in a way he was very familiar with.

“We have unfinished business from last October.”

He lost his breath. “But— your mom said—”

“I promise you they’ll all still be there in the morning.” Sean lowered his voice, reached out and gently pulled him in by his jacket. “Turn off your phone.”

~*~

_End_


End file.
